


I Help Because It Helps Me Too

by orochisInebriation (asterCrash)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Human, Asexual Character, Complete, F/F, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, Teen Runaway Roxy, Uncomfortable Maternal Vriska, pale vrisRoxy, stilted red JaneRoxy, teen misunderstandings that somehow lead to romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterCrash/pseuds/orochisInebriation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a wet summer night when Roxy turns up at the apartment of her mothers' girlfriend, wondering if she's ruined a friendship forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Museums are not fun for everyone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3378848) by [Daja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daja/pseuds/Daja). 



GA: Vriska  
AG: Ugh, for the l8st time I promise I’ll bring 8ack your stupid movies when I’m over next!  
GA: Vriska, This Is Not About Those Tapes Which We Have Long Since Regarded As Departed From Our Lives  
GA: Rose Held A Funeral  
GA: We Have Buried Our Grief And Moved On  
GA: I Am Messaging You Because Roxy Is Missing  
AG: Woah w8 wh8t?  
GA: She And Rose Had Something Of An  
GA: Incident  
GA: Or At Least That Is How Rose Wishes To Refer To It For The Time Being As Shouting-Match-With-Your-Inebriated-Offspring Is Not As Catchy.  
AG: Hold 8n, Roxy got drunk? I thought sh8 was little miss responsi8le?  
GA: I Assure You It Comes As A Surprise To Us As Well  
GA: Rose Is Understandably Not In Any Condition To Go After Her So We Were Wondering If You Would In Our Stead  
AG: Look around for h8r? Yeah, I’ll do a sweep of t8wn, try and see if she’s in any of her usual ha8nts. She’s pro8a8ly holed up with a fri8nd though.  
GA: We Have Reason To Believe She Will Not Turn To Her Friends In Her Current State.  
AG: W8, what’s happ8ned?  
GA: Please Vriska  
GA: Just  
GA: Keep An Eye Out For Her 

 

You’re not particularly sure what you were expecting. She likes homeless people so maybe she’d stay in a homeless shelter, except you’ve personally driven her to at least a dozen shelters for volunteer nights and none of them were within 50kms of here. You’re pretty sure she hasn’t hung around you long enough to have learnt how to hotwire a car yet so she’s probably on foot. Homeless shelters are out then. You’ve called all the bars sleazy enough to let a 17 year old in the door, every bartender in this city owes you three favours minimum, and they haven’t seen her either. Assuming Kanaya was right about Roxy not crashing at a friend’s place that narrows things down pretty significantly. You’re halfway through drawing up a map of all the 24 hour places in town she might think to crash at when your apartment buzzer sounds. You get up to tell the church of Who-The-Fuck-Gives-A-Shit that now is absolutely not the time for you to find Jegus, instead you find a girl with blonde curls and eye makeup that’s fucked up from crying staring at you through the camera.

You buzz her up without her having to ask.

You do some stuff on autopilot that you didn’t know you knew how to do at all. She’s on your couch, soaked hoodie discarded in favour of a sheepskin blanket, a mug of tea forcefully placed in her hands and a box of tissues sitting beside her. You don’t sit, you lean against the wall, trying to think how long you have to wait before you can call Kanaya and tell her baby Lalonde is safe and sound in your lair.

“Please don’t tell my moms I’m here.” Well that answers that question for you.

“Why are we keeping this a secret from them exactly? I’m like 88% sure you’ve never been here before, I don’t even know how you found me without them giving you directions. Also, protip: your moms’ girlfriend is probably the person most likely to rat you out to your moms.” Shit, you sound like your own mom, giving a lecture like that.

“Yeah, but you’re too cool to rat me out.” She gives you this grin that you’d call shit-eating if she didn’t still look like she’s been bawling in the rain for the last two hours. “Also, finding this place was easy, I had inside information.” She pulls Rose’s phone out of her pocket and waves it around for emphasis. Clearly she is going for broke at the mother and daughter fighting thing.

“Okay, but I’m still not hearing a why in any of this. What’s happened that you’re out on your ass?”

“We… had a fight.” She stumbles over the word fight, you have no idea how drunk she must have been when she took on Rose in a verbal contest if she’s still slurring now.

“A fight?” In your long experience, pissing off Rose Lalonde doesn’t lead to a shouting match, it leads to six weeks of her huffily ignoring you and your gym clothes being occasionally filled with raw seafood.

“Like, a big one! There was shouting and exasperated sighing and I thought mom was going to faint!” She spills a little tea on your carpet with the animated hand gestures but you find yourself somehow not caring about your rental bond at a time like this.

“Wait, which mom? You know what, doesn’t matter. Shut up for a while and drink your tea, I’ll get out the Gamecube and we can play some shit that’s older than you are.” You turn your back for a second to dig through your cupboards and pull out the dusty console. Turns out that was a second too long because when you turn back around the brat has somehow managed to summon a bottle of something out of the void and is taking a less-than-healthy swig from it. You’re back over there in a second, wrenching the bottle from her hands and tea goes everywhere as she tries to hold on. Some of it gets you on the arm, though fortunately all you get from the scalding is a damp sleeve. No flesh to burn there anymore.

You wrestle the bottle free of her grubby little hands and block her from tackling you for it with your artificial arm. Only you realise she’s not trying to grab past you, she’s recoiling back into the couch. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her look scared before, a part of you had always believed the Lalonde gene pool just didn’t include the sequence for fear, but she’s pretty obviously scared now. She’s scared of you. Your heart breaks in a way it hasn’t done in a long time at the sight of this pitiful girl, who you care about probably more than you should given your weird familial relationship, cowering from you. When you were little your mom would come home drunk sometimes, and she’d slap you around a bit to make you straighten up. You wonder if this is what you looked like to her. You wonder why she didn’t stop if this is what it feels like to see someone you care about terrified of what you could do to her. You don’t ever want to see this again.

You drop the bottle carelessly behind you and sink down to your knees in front of the couch. You do your best to be delicate, like you even know what that word means, when you lift the mostly drained tea mug out of her trembling hand and put it down on the carpet beside you. “Roxy,” your eyes don’t meet hers, you’re not sure you want to see what’s waiting in her gaze “Roxy, you know I wouldn’t hurt you, right?” Which is the exact wrong thing to say because if she knew that then she wouldn’t look like she’s getting ready to take a punch. You have no idea where a girl this bright and full of sunshine picked up this much anxiety.

“Yeah, whatevs, you just startled me is all. You should be careful though, surprise me like that again and I might go full ninja on you and I’m not sure you’d look as fashionable with two eye patches.” Oh god this brat just had to inherit her mother’s sense of humour as well as whatever fucked up genes carry the Lalonde strain of personal insecurities.

“You didn’t have to go full ninja on either of your moms did you?” You pray to all the made up make believe fakey fakey fake gods that she is not about to make you call the cops on one or both of your girlfriends. Break ups involving the police are never fun and you’re not sure if they’d let you adopt Roxy if you send them both to jail and—

“No, they didn’t hit me, it was just yelling and stuff.” Okay, credit where it’s due, the kid probably gets her smarts from Rose along with the shitty humour and other genetic garbage. Even through the tears you can see she’s got her mother’s eyes as well. You also notice for the first time that the left arm of her shirt is almost soaked through with blood.

“Jesus, kid! You could’ve told me you were bleeding more than a synced up nunnery there! Shit, let me get some bandages. Don’t move, you’ll get shitty Lalonde blood everywhere and then the couch will come to life and start diagnosing people with Freudian boners.” You rattle around in some more cupboards, trying to find your first aid kit, keeping a close eye on the couch to make sure she doesn’t make a dive for the bottle still lying in the centre of the room. “I thought you said they didn’t hit you, what the hell fucked up your arm?”

“You know how some assholes line the tops of their walls with broken glass to stop people climbing over? Turns out a deterrent kind of sucks at deterring people if you can’t see it from ground level.” You suppress the part of you that wants to congratulate the little badass on opening up her entire arm because holy shit does it sound like she’s not been making good decisions lately.

“Okay, okay, war stories later, we gotta clean this up. Are you taking that shirt off or do I get the scissors?” Roxy opts to ditch the shirt and you can see how rough she must have had it. You get to work mopping up the blood with a damp towel, making sure to check the lacerations along her arm for any large or small shards of glass. You ignore the bruises that are blossoming over her chest and other shoulder, presuming she fell off whatever wall she mistakenly tried to hop. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to have taken anything with her when she decided to do the horizontal tango with what looks like the mother of all broken bottles. The wounds are all shallow, no artery appears to have been hit, but she’s probably going to be a bit woozy for a while, forgetting that her blood probably already has enough alcohol content to put a vampire over the legal limit.

You really need to get some antiseptic on those cuts but the kid looks like she’s gone through hell and you want her to relax a bit more before you bandage her up. “Hey, you stink. Go have a shower and then I’ll finish fixing that arm for you.” She mutters something about you being the one who stinks but lets you help her up to her feet regardless. She’s wobbly, which is to be expected, but so much lighter than you’d thought. You both stand there for a few seconds, Lalonde looking beaten up and awkward in just jeans and a bra and yourself at your regular levels of awkward, until you realise she has no idea where your shower is. She lets you lead her through the shoebox apartment, and you fuss her into the bathroom, handing over a clean towel and a new shirt to replace the bloodstained one you’re going to try and wash. It’ll be too large for her but she can kiss your ass if she wants to complain about the accommodations you’re providing.

First thing you do when she’s out of sight is text Kanaya.

AG: Got her  
GA: Thank Goodness I Will Come Get Her Immediately  
GA: Where Are You?  
AG: I don’t think she’s ready to come home just y8t  
AG: She’s going to hang out at my place for a 8it  
AG: If that’s ok8y with you two of course  
GA: Vriska Is My Only Daughter In Danger Of Becoming Yet Another Iron In Your Fire?  
AG: Mayyyyyyyybe  
AG: I’ll come round in a while and pick up some of her stuff so she can crash here  
AG: We can talk more then  
AG: Trust me ::::)  
GA: I Suppose Few Of Us Can Pretend To Match Your Knowledge Of Youthful Delinquency  
GA: Just  
GA: Take Care Of Her For Me  
AG: And you t8ke care of Rose  
GA: Is It Too Late To Swap Tasks?  
AG: Hey, you’re the one who married her  
AG: <3

Second thing you do is get out an empty cardboard box. Roxy’s vodka goes in there first. She can get it back when she’s old enough to just go buy some more. Come to think of it you’re not sure where she got this one from. It’s not like there’s a drop to be had under Rose’s roof and you don’t think she knows anyone who could buy her the stuff. Might see if you can pry the secret out of her later. You rifle through the backpack she brought over but don’t find any more contraband. Next you empty your cabinet and fridge. Anything with even a hint of ethanol goes in the box. If this girl wants to get drunk in your house she’s going to have to get biblical on a glass of water.

Thirdly you finally get the gamecube hooked up and leave a selection of games out for her to keep herself busy with. She might pass out and puke all over your living room, but hopefully she just plays Animal Crossing. You never really got into it yourself, you always get kind of weirded out when you have to build a house in a videogame, just the strangest sense of deja vu and the weirdest desire to put stairs everywhere.

Lastly you check the fridge again for something edible. You sniff at some month-old takeaway containers out of habit before determining that they are still gross abundances of horror and putting them back in the fridge. Instead you get out a microwave meal from the freezer, these things probably don’t contain anything resembling the nutrition a growing girl needs, but beggars can’t be choosers. You’ll pick up dessert on the way home to make up for it.

Roxy looks eight times better when she steps out of the shower, most of her makeup washed away and generally looking a little more sober and refreshed. You wind the bandages around her arm and make her flex for you to show they’re not going to cut off circulation. She breaks out in giggles giving you the full gun show and you match her silliness by showing off the non-existent muscles of your prosthetic arm. That gag never fails to get a laugh, even though you must have made the same dumb joke with Roxy at least a dozen times by now. Done with the medical attention she gets into your top and politely avoids remarking how oversized it is on her.

“So here’s the plan, twerp: I’m going to go over to your parents’ place and pick up some stuff for you and you’re going to crash here until we can sit you and them down for a proper talk.” She goes to protest but you just tap your eye patch and tell her it’s “captain’s orders” as if you two hadn’t stopped making dumb pirate jokes years ago. “Come on, we gotta visit a neighbour of mine first.”

* * *

 

Vriska’s neighbour opens up before she can get more than a couple of good bangs on the apartment door. Your first impression is that she is at least fifty percent hair. Your second impression is that all of that hair is damp. She ignores you the way most adults seem to ignore a kid in tow, but her expression drops when she sees Vriska. That pleasant, bubbly grin is quickly replaced with a condescending scowl, made fearsome by the aura of what must be fifty glowing aquariums framing her silhouette.

“Hey!” Vriska greets, apparently immune to the scowls people throw at her (though really how could anyone date your mom and not be immune to scowling?) “I need you to hold onto a box for me, no questions asked, for an unspecified period of time. Cool? Cool, here’s the box.”

A hand slams into the door frame fast and heavy, barring Vriska’s entrance into the land of glowy fishtanks. “Vriska so help me if you set one foot inside my flat with another parcel of god knows what from who knows where you will be sleeping with the heeeeey who’s this?” A disconcerting amount of fish-lady’s attention is now on you. Those bottle glasses of hers almost look like she’s wearing goggles, eyes bulging out like a goldfish. Vriska ignores the possibility that the conversation could ever not be about her and launches into a trademark Serket rant defending her right to leave boxes full of mystery with long-time acquaintances unquestioned.

“I don’t care,” Aqualass interrupts “who is the cutie?” she punctuates each word with the determination of someone who’s used to getting their way. You wonder how much longer before you’re going to end up in one of those fishbowls.

“Ease off, Feferi, this is Rose’s brat,” she turns to you conspiratorily “I think you said your name’s Roxy, yeah?”

“Gee, I dunno,” you slather on the sarcasm, ”I told it to you, like, four years ago so I don’t really remember what I mighta said back then.”

“Okay yes, I can see the resemblance now.” You know the name Feferi, one of your moms’ friends from way back when. If you remember the incestuous pile of shenanigans that was your mother’s social circle Feferi and Vriska used to date the same guy and then broke up with him at about the same time. You have no idea who though, because your moms refuse to say this one jerk’s name in the house, and they’ve always silenced Vriska before she could spill the beans. You’re pretty sure it was either Eric or Daniel, but then again who gives a flip.

“She’s just crashing with me for a bit, I need you to hold onto some stuff of mine that I don’t want her getting into.” Vriska lifts the box up for Feferi’s inspection, tilting it open at an angle so you can’t quite get a look at the contents of Vriska’s box of mystery.

“Huh, she really is Rose’s kid, then.” Feferi takes the box off Vriska without another word and carries it back into her apartment. Vriska barges in, no longer obstructed, and you sort of wander inside on her wake. Once you can see them all, fifty aquariums seems like an understatement but it’s entirely possible that they’re all just one big aquarium. You trace the paths of sea critters as they swim from tank to tank, passing each other like classy folk in the street with a bob of their heads and a wiggle of their fins. They’re quite cute. If you remember your mother’s mockery correctly Feferi would probably describe them as “adorabubble”.

You’re so distracted by the fish you don’t notice an angry looking girl about your age standing in the centre of the room. Her arms are covered with gaudy bangles, in stark contrast to the rest of her outfit which is just a plainish t-shirt, some cargo pants and a pair of bright pink shoes. She seems to be glaring back and forth between Vriska and you, though you’re not really sure what you would attribute the look too. It almost looks like jealousy?

“Meenah! Say hello!” Meenah glares but those lips stay puckered shut like someone just fed her the world’s sourest Lalonde-shaped lemon. “She was just talking about you, Vriska, wanted to know if I could invite you round so she would have a chance to—”

“HEY my name’s Meenah what’s yours?” Fishgirl junior is suddenly all about talking if it involves her mom not talking anymore. You start to put some Meenah and Vriska shaped puzzle pieces together in your head, but you’re fairly sure there’s a piece that goes between them that reads ‘huge unrequited crush on an older woman’. “Yeah, yeah, it’s Roxy, right? How do you know Vriska?”

“She, uh... “ You turn to Vriska to see if there’s any indication that you should keep your trap shut about her dating a married couple, she’s never had a problem with it before, but it’s not exactly common. Vriska’s back is to you while she seems to be viscerally describing the best way to gut a tunafish. “She’s dating my moms. Like, both of them. I have two moms.” You finish sheepishly. Seventeen years old and you’re no less awkward about telling people you come from an actually happy family. You remember being six and having your primary school art teacher throw a fit when you insisted you didn’t have a dad, that you had two moms like a NORMAL PERSON. You remember that teacher never gave you good marks on your wizard drawings again. The joke’s on her though, art sucks and you hate it. Writing is your family’s racket so screwball art teachers can keep their shitty paintings and their mom-envy.

“That’s cool, I guess. What do you do for moms’ day?” You attempt to resist the urge to feign traumatic flashbacks and describe in detail the horror of having to give both your parents shitty homemade cards along with their breakfast in bed. You fail to resist the urge. Meenah seems pretty impressed when you’re done describing the time you and Vriska bravely suffered through a family picnic for Mother’s Day despite Mom one blowing a fuse at your antics and the two of you having to flee up into a tree to escape her wrath. Meenah laughs all the way through that one and you’re not exactly frowning yourself from telling it. “I think,” she begins when you’re done “that’s probably the first story anyone’s ever told me about Vriska that didn’t end with ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older.’”

You check back over your shoulder to see what Vriska’s up to. Turns out she and Feferi had apparently been listening in on the story as well, Feferi looking like she’s about to bust a gut laughing and Vriska doing that frozen thing that shows her brain just blue-screened from someone finding out she isn’t awesome all the time. She finally snaps out of it when Feferi whomps her on the back and she switches into the Serket sputtering defence of “it was a _tactical_ retreat!”

Eventually she calms herself down and notices how conspiratorially close you and Meenah are standing together. “Since you two chucklemongers seem to be having such a great time together, how about you hang out at my place while I run an errand and give poor Feferi here a break.” Feferi gives you both a thumbs up, which if you remember your fishperson to human body language courses, indicates approval. You turn back to check Meenah’s reaction only to see her smiling wider than you knew human mouths could smile. Looks like your vote isn’t going to count for much against that majority.

With a cry of “I’ll get my jacket!” Meenah absconds from the room and Vriska nods towards the door for you to follow. Meenah catches up to the two of you as you’re walking back through the hall. She’s wearing this beat up old leather jacket, looks like a motorcycle style but it’s got too many scrapes all over it to actually count as safety gear. You think you hear Vriska mutter a question about why she loves that old thing so much but if she hears Meenah doesn’t react in a visible way. You stop at apartment 88 (of course) and Vriska opens the door for you both. Meenah squeezes ahead of you so she can get in first and immediately starts poking around the place.

“Okay, play nice, twerps. I’ll be gone an hour, tops, and I’ll text Roxy if I’m gonna be any longer. If I find a mess when I come back here you’re gonna be cleaning my carpet with toothbrushes, got it?” Meenah gives this hurt-puppy-I’m-not-a-kid-anymore look and you just roll your eyes. Vriska leans in close to whisper something to Meenah and okay, ow, that hurts. You might be fragile right now but you’re not stupid. You know a “make sure Roxy doesn’t do something dumb” speech when you see one. Vriska gives you a parting look that might be a smile (but god knows what she means by it) and heads out, leaving you two to your devices and each other.

Meenah doesn’t really address the awkward silence so much as rifle through Vriska’s Gamecube collection. After tonight, and now that you’re starting to feel alarmingly sober, you don’t particularly feel like playing games. You feel like putting your head into your hands and crying. You don’t though, because honestly your eyes feel raw and dry, like you’ve cried enough in an evening to last you a year. Instead you plop down on the couch and try to avoid thinking about the obvious. About how you’ve not only messed up with Jane now, you’ve obviously pissed off both your moms beyond all repair. It’s awful nice of Vriska to take you in like this but as soon as she finds out what you did she’s going to tell you to hit the highway as well. Maybe Fishlady will put you up in one of her aquariums if you ask nicely.

“I thought you talked more,” Fishgirl junior interrupts your depressing train of thought, “sure seemed like it back at Fef’s place.”

“Babe, I can talk the ear off a deaf lady at two hundred paces with both hands behind my back and my lips sewn shut, I am an EXPERT at talking, believe-you-me.” You’re a bit worried you’re picking up the compulsive talking thing from Vriska, though there’s every chance you inherited it from Uncle Dave. “Whaddya want to talk about? We could talk about your weird crush on my moms’ girlfriend, who I can say for a fact is old enough to be your mom because she went to school with mine. We could talk about how that jacket was almost certainly a shitty hand me down Vriska gave you that you’ve held onto for years. We could talk about your mom’s disapproval of Vriska’s antics certainly playing a factor in your attraction to the whole ‘bad girl’ mystique she sprays on like cheap perfume. We could talk about—”

“Woah, okay, wow, shut up.” She’s trying to play tough but that rising pink in her cheeks is a pretty telltale sign that Lalonde psychoanalytics has won yet another throwdown nobody asked for. “So firstly: Feferi’s not my mom. She’s like, a distant cousin or something I dunno, it’s complicated. Secondly: wow, where do you get off shoving your half baked theories about my love life down my throat when we met, like, ten minutes ago? And thirdly: she only gave me this jacket on my birthday three months ago, so it’s totally ratty because she’s too badass to take care of her stuff and not because it’s some kinda safety blanket like you were thinking.”

“Actually I thought you were trying to show off to her, but the safety blanket thing is a good theory too!”

“Oh fuck you, lets just play some video games.” She gets Smash Bros. up and running on the Gamecube and you give up on your former reluctance to join her down on the carpet. You play Kirby because a) Kirby rocks and b) pink puff ball of aerial destruction is you all over.

“Why Peach?” you ask after a couple of rounds. You really didn’t figure punk rock here for the pretty pink princess type.

“Uh, because she’s royalty? Duh? Plus she’s totally loaded. Hyrule’s always this boring rural town so you know Zelda hasn’t got cash to spare, but literally every brick in the mushroom kingdom has coin because Princess Peach is just that loaded. Bowser and Ganondorf are always losing to working class punks who just break shit, so they weren’t even in the competition to begin with. Do the math, Peach is the bomb.” On the one hand you could easily rip into her for the royalty obsession or the fact that she’s obviously a total nerd to think about video games this much, but you’re sort of enjoying things as they are. It’s been a while since you got to hang out with anyone new and this has the nice feel of a no-pressure ‘we’re hanging out because our parents are friends, we don’t have to be a thing’ sort of thing.

You play on for a while in relative silence, apart from the regular back and forth cries of triumph, dismay and expletives that just occur on their own when two competitive babes throw down in the cyber realm. Meenah eventually breaks the noisy silence “So if your moms both like girls does that mean you like ‘em too? Or are you the straight black sheep of the family?”

“I don’t think it’s like an automatic gay+gay=more gay thing,” you respond. Honestly you never really bothered thinking of yourself in those terms. You think your moms were maybe some of the early people who didn’t have to ‘pick a side’ they could just like who they liked and not have to answer a bunch of questions. “Plus they both sort of freaked out about making sure I didn’t feel pressured into liking boys or girls or anyone at all really. But yeah, I like girls, they got better butts than the other chumps. What about you?”

“Shell yes I like girls!” Her declaration shocks you tremendously. You totally didn’t catch her sneaking a longing look at Vriska’s ass before.

“‘Shell yes’? Is that like a ninja turtle thing?” She does keep upping the nerd factor every chance she gets but you’re pretty sure that cartoon would be dated for your parents let alone someone your age.

“No, it’s a fish pun, or a crustacean pun, I guess. Whatever, the ocean is awesome is the point and it’s way cooler than sewer turtles.” There isn’t a lot that’s not cooler than sewer turtles.

“Yeah, probably.” You’re still not taking your eyes off the TV because those CPU fuckers can be sneaky, but you find yourself paying less and less attention to the game. “So you’re going to be a crazy fish lady too? Have a million little cuttlefish and take ‘em for walks and stuff?”

“Nah, I could never be bothered with all that marine biology stuff Feferi does. I just wanna chill with dolphins, y’know?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” you lie, because as much as you don’t see a whole bunch of fun in hanging out with a bunch of grey-skinned weirdos who don’t understand any of your pop-culture references, you’re not going to talk shit about the stuff someone else likes. It’s not like you’re really passionate about anything in particular anymore, dolphin-lust has to be step up from that.

“So if you like girls then do you have a girlfriend?” Wow, personal much? You don’t want to voice your hesitance out loud, for fear of pointing out that there’s something more to the absence than there might otherwise be.

“Nah. You?”

“Nah. Do you have someone you’re sweet on?” Jesus shit she’s either crazy-persistent or just has the best dumb luck at forking people right in the sore spots. Maybe you should introduce her to your mother so she can accept her true heiress.

“What, like you and Vriska?” You’re not giving up that title without a fight mind you.

“Oh my god, STFU,” she actually says the acronym out loud. “I was just making conversation.”

Okay, maybe you should chill with the snarky horseshit for a while. Kirby goes flying off screen and the match ends so you can both spend a little less time staring at the screen and a little more time awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Might help a little to talk about it to someone your own age, you guess. “Yeah, okay,” you begin your awkward, stilted saga of awkward, stilted mistakes. “There’s like, this one girl I like, but she’s never going to talk to me again, cause I suck, so I’m going to have to give up my junior lesbian card and start shopping around for a boring husband or something.” So ends your shitty young person tale of woe.

“I am 380% sure that is not how it works. Why do you suck?” You try to rest on your amazing storytelling laurels, but the audience clamours for an encore.

“I suck because she was my total BFFsie since we were like, five.” God, probably longer. You’re fairly sure your earliest memory is a toss up between mom one’s smile, mom two’s smirk and Jane’s laughter. “I fucked up big time and kissed her when she didn’t want me to ‘cause we were both drunk and I was dumb and thought if I just kissed her she’d get with the program and then we could like, get married and stuff. I don’t know, I was an asshole and she hasn’t talked to me for like two months because of it.”

“Okay, firstly: I don’t know about how poly families do things but most people don’t get married after their first kiss.” Such a sympathetic listener to be scoring points off you at a time like this.

“Argh, shut up, I know. I said I was drunk.” Half a bottle of wine probably wouldn’t faze you so badly after the last month, but at the time splitting that bottle of cooking wine between the two of you had been your biggest binge in a single sitting. Jane was certainly not in any way to stop you when you leaned in and told her you had a secret for her. She definitely wasn’t able to stop you when you collapsed down on top of her with your lips still locked together. You’re amazed she had the strength to push you off when you were in full creep mode like that. You wish you hadn’t been that drunk but you’ve pretty much been nothing but drunk since the night you fucked up everything good you ever had.

“Okay, whatevs.” You’re glad you’ve cried your eyes out because you’re really not sure hearing someone so casually dismiss you _forcing yourself_ on your _best fucking friend_ wouldn’t have you crying for the next month. “Second: is that what happened to your arm? You sucked at kissing so much she knifed you?”

“No,” you actually manage a laugh. You think it might have actually felt a little better if she had done something to make up for you hurting her like that. “That was from a separate but equally dumb stunt. And I don’t suck at kissing!”

She gets this look in her eyes like you just walked straight into a shitty wordplay trap she set up for you. “Wanna show me then?”

"What the shit, Meenah, are you really hitting on me right fucking now?” Your eyes are so dry they sting, you’ve got no tears left to cry so you laugh instead, one of the nasty laughs your mom makes when she thinks you can’t hear. “We’ve known each other for like twenty minutes and I just got done telling you how much of a creep I feel like right now and you have the nerve to ask if I'm feeling up for makeouts? ‘O-M-G miss Roxy, please smooch me against my will like you did to your BFFsie.’" She recoils at that, you’re too mad to read into it enough to know whether it’s fear of pissing you off or genuine contrition.

"Geez, wow, I didn’t mean it like that.” She looks pretty hurt at your reaction. Hurt Meenah looks like if a puppy and a shark had a baby and then someone kicked it. Kind of takes the wind out of your anger sails. “You can totally say no, but I was thinking if you're worried you don't know how to ask someone for stuff then maybe we could practice?" She’s clearly not shitting you about wanting to make out, though you’re not sure that makes anything better. "Here, let me go first: Roxy, I think you're adorabubble and it's really endearing how you care enough about your friend to beat yourself up about the whole non-con smooches thing. I don’t want to carp on too much, but would it be okay if I kissed you?"

Shit, would it? Your list of bad decisions these last two months is pretty long already, making out with a fish-chick isn’t even on the same scale as serial breaking and entering, grand theft hooch and aggravated mom-heartbreakery. She’s not bad looking, but you wouldn’t exactly call her your type. Then again your type has pretty much always been Jane-and-Jane-alone. You’ve never even really put serious thought into dating other girls because it was so obvious to you that Jane would wake up one day and then you could skip straight to the happily ever after bit. Meenah’s waiting around, not looking directly at you but pouting just a little. She does have nice looking lips.

"Yeah, okay I guess"

She shuffles across the carpet to get a little closer to you, stopping inside of arms reach but not completely inside your personal space just yet. You sit up a little bit, getting closer to her as you go, until your heads are about level. Neither of you is really looking at the other, desperately trying to find something else to do with your eyes than watch the other’s lips. Your stomach feels empty and you wish you had a drink to put in it. Bad decisions are so much easier with alcohol or the promise of alcohol in the near future. You were less nervous the first time you picked a lock than you are now. She leans her head in towards yours, tilting it just a little bit so that it’s not like she’s coming in lips first. She halts mere centimetres short of you, lips slightly parted, breathing shallow with anticipation. You could still back out, you could tell her you don’t feel up for it, that you’re still too messed up about Jane. You don’t.

Her lips are soft against yours, soft but dry, and it makes the kiss chaste in that you can only really press into each other. You do just that, letting the plushness of her settle against your mouth for just a second before it’s over and she’s pulling back. That wasn’t so bad. You might even go as far as saying it was nice. She asked you, you said yes, your lips were touching and then they were not touching. Simple. You run your tongue across your lips and taste a little of her lip gloss, left behind where she was on you just before. She’s more or less copying your actions across from you, though you think she might be moistening her lips a little more intentionally.

"Okay, now it's your turn, ask me if I want to make out."

"Uh, alright. Meenah: you're kinda cute and apparently a pretty good motivational speaker and I'd really like to kiss you again please."

There’s less waiting this time, less buildup, you just lean into each other and then it’s happening. Her lips on yours, wet and slightly parted. She rolls over the contours of your mouth, exploring the new sensation as much as you are. You bring up a hand to hold her cheek, keeping her steady against you as you rotate around her mouth and deepen the kiss. Her tongue runs along the space between your lips and you can feel the hot breath behind it. You tentatively poke out your own tongue, uncertain as to exactly what to do no matter how simply all that femslash you’ve wasted your teens on made it sound. You disengage again, letting your hand linger on her face just a second longer than needed before bringing it back down. Meenah looks flushed but giddy, doing that toothy shark-smile again at you. You might be getting a little giggly yourself. You don’t want to make huge sweeping statements but making out with new people is way more fun than beating yourself up.

"See? That was good, you don't suck as much as you thought.” You punch her shoulder lightly for that one but nobody stops smiling. “My turn, Roxy I would like to kiss you again and also maybe touch your butt a little if that's alright with you?"

"Oh, wow, um.” In for a penny in for another arbitrary unit of a foreign currency you’ve never actually seen in person. “Yeah? Okay, butt touching is fine."

She doesn’t go straight for the prize when you lean in to meet her lips again, placing her hand delicately on your waist instead. You wrap your arms around her shoulders and sort of lean into her, letting yourself relax in anticipation of the weird touching. Meenah, however, is pretty keen on taking her sweet time getting down there. The two of you play at beginners’ tongue-kissing again, trying to figure out exactly how much tongue is too much tongue (almost all tongue is too much tongue, you quickly find). Her fingers ghost around your waist and up your back, gentle to the point that she’s almost hover-handing. You have to admit, for a girl who propositioned you immediately after hearing you were feeling like shit, she is trying to respect your comfort zone here. Eventually she finally starts heading buttward, stroking down your back in waves with her palm pressed into you. Your anticipation is building up more and more with each pass of her hand, lower and lower until finally you feel her fingers roll over your belt and onto your jeans, lifting up the back of your shirt to cup one your ass cheeks.

Your lips part but your bodies don’t separate. Meenah’s hand stays firmly planted where it is, having settled in for the long winter ahead. "My turn again, Meenah could we cuddle for a bit?"

"Oo la la, miss Roxy is such a charmer" Again with the scoring points off you. You think you might like this girl.

"Oh shut up, this stuff is hard, are we gonna hug or not?"

"Oh we're doing this, Roxy, we're making this happen!"

* * *

 

“Hey guys, sorry I took so long, you wouldn’t believe how many people you have to flip off to JEGUS FUCK YOU TWO. IN MY BED?!”  
  
Roxy shrieks the second she sees you and dives under the covers to conceal herself and exactly what she was doing. For comparison, Meenah squeals and jumps as far to the other side of the room as she can get, launching herself out of the bed and juggling covering her top half with trying to pull her pants back up from her knees. You turn around and do the opposite of blushing furiously because you are a grown damn woman and you really shouldn’t be so flustered at finding out your girlfriends’ kid is apparently old enough to be doing stuff like that with other girls. By the time you turn back around Roxy’s out of the bed and back wearing your shirt with her jeans, Meenah is still trying to jam an arm into the hole of your ratty old jacket, bra held in her teeth and shirt obviously lost to some forgotten corner of the room.

“You,” you start, pointing at Roxy “are going to be washing these fucking sheets so I don’t have to deal with any of these shenanigans you’ve brought into my bedroom and you,” pointing to Meenah “are going to owe me a sweet bribe of a birthday present if you don’t want Feferi to be hearing about this every week for the next year. If you get me more tacky fish shit again this year, there’ll be trouble, we clear?” The kid gives you a little salute like you’re her fucking CO or something. You have to agree with Fef on this one, when she’s not trying to be cool the kid can really be adorabubble. “And, look, I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to be young, so before you go, high fives all round.” Meenah breaks out in a smile and gives you some fin, before turning back to Roxy and giving her a big overhead one. Roxy sheepishly refuses to leave you hanging and you get a light tap on the palm. If she thinks you’re not going to be repeating this to her moms after the current shitstorm has blown over she is sorely mistaken. “Now go, get out of here, twerp.”

Meenah shuffles out of the apartment pretty quick, picking up her shoes and socks along the way before absconding. Only after you hear the apartment door closing behind her do you stride across the room and pick up her shirt where she lost it on your bedroom floor. You chuck the shirt across the room to Roxy and she catches it out of the air, “Souvenir for you, ladykiller. I’ll get her number off Feferi for you later, don’t worry.” You’re pretty grateful she’s too embarrassed to have been caught in the act to notice how embarrassed you are about catching her. “Come on back to the lounge room, I got us ice cream.”

“Don’t I have to wash your sheets?” Roxy looks a little confused that you’re not forcing her to do chores when it’s almost eleven at night.

“I was just saying that to fuck with Meenah, you two didn’t do anything that would warrant intense laundering did you?” There’s more blushing and a quick head shake. You sit down on the couch and wave her over but she seems to be glued to the wall. “Kid, this isn’t like you. Where’s the comeback? The laughter? You almost scored in the space of what, an hour? You have every right to rub this in my face given I’ve been stuck dating the same two old biddies for the last five years.”  
  
“Sorry, just, um. You yelling back there, kind of startled me a bit.” It suddenly hits you that your untimely entrance turned this into two makeout sessions in a row Roxy has unexpectedly been yelled at for.

“Oh crap. I wasn’t thinking. Roxy, there was absolutely nothing wrong with you hooking up with Meenah just now, I shouldn’t have yelled at you for it.” You groan and dump your head in your hands. You have probably done more to ruin her evening with five seconds of yelling than she did falling off an 8 foot high wall covered with broken glass. Roxy is tugging nervously at her injured arm. You have no idea how to calm her down and the stupid advice flooding your brain like ‘make her tea’ or ‘get her a blanket’. You realise that she probably needs something you either don’t know how to give or just plain suck at. But you try to think back to when you were her age, and what you wanted when you felt like you’d fucked up and people were going to be angry at you. You have to think back a ways, back to before you learned to cloak yourself in brash confidence, back to when you didn’t lie to yourself about other people’s opinions mattering. You think you have the solution.

“Roxy, can I give you a hug? You look like you could do with one. I mean, like whatever, if you want a hug I’m happy to, um. I can like, we can hug if you want.” She doesn’t give you a whole lot of indication one way or the other, but you’re pretty sure that was a nod. You stand up to meet her rather than have her come down to the couch. She fits weirdly between your arms and you can’t quite get them around her the way you’d expect to hug a kid, she’s pretty much as tall as you, and she’s got surprisingly buff arms considering Rose looks like the heaviest thing she ever lifts is a mug of coffee. Roxy slowly stops feeling so stiff in your arms and pulls her arms around you and squeezes into your chest. Eventually she seems to be feeling better so you get her down to the couch and put an ice cream in her hands. Ice cream doesn’t solve shit but it certainly makes all of life’s problems feel at least a little easier to handle.  
  
"So I spoke to your moms and they're not mad.” Wait, no, that's bullshit and this kid has a bullshit radar with a mile radius. She can smell a white lie from two suburbs over. “Okay, yes they are mad BUT they'll get over it is my point. Trust me, I have a lot of experience regarding your moms and them being mad. You saw Meenah's jacket, right? That used to be mine, and if you thought it looked banged up you should see what I did to Kanaya's motorcycle."

She looks at you quizzically "Mom doesn't own a motorbike?"

"She does, it's just at the bottom of the ocean in three different pieces, also not the point, the point is don't worry about it. You can live in the doghouse here with me for a little while until we smooth things over with them, got it?" Having some space should hopefully take the pressure off Roxy long enough for her to patch up whatever’s been going on with her life, away from overdramatic maternal figures.

"Why are you helping me? I didn't think you even liked me that much"

Your heart is going to break in two. What the hell is up with this kid that she thinks you don’t like her? You two have been thick as thieves since that day at the museum, years ago. Don’t her moms tell her you ask how she’s doing all the time? She’s half the damn reason this entire relationship works as well as it does, how can she think the three of you don’t love her to pieces? How do you even tell her all this?

“Come on kid, what are moms for? Or weird, pseudo-moms at least. I’ve got your back, no matter what dumb teenage shit you pull. Now, we should hit the hay because I’m a cranky old woman and it's past my bed time. We can talk more in the morning.”

It doesn’t take long at all for the two of you to get changed into the pyjamas you collected from Roxy’s room and the set you pilfered off Kanaya. You have her crash in your bed “because you got soooooooo well acquainted with it before” and to make sure her arm doesn’t get worse during the night. Also maybe you just want to be there if she has trouble sleeping.

“Goodnight, twerp.” Is the last thing you say to Roxy as you kill the light on the bedside table.

“Goodnight, mom.” Is the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep.

 


	2. Intermission

TG: Hey mom have I told you again today how unbelievably shitty Rose is as a parent and how I’ve followed her almost exact footsteps in my own path to self-destruction because teen alcoholism is apparently hereditary?  
GA: Rose This Is By Far The Least Mature Thing Youve Ever Done And I Demand You Cease At Once  
TT: Fine, but I reserve the right to sulk internally for the next twenty years until you eventually divorce my bitter, self-loathing husk.  
GA: As Long As I Don’t Have To Read It In Pink  
GA: How Exactly Did You Guess The Password On Her Phone Again?  
TT: Easy, she figured out that mine was her birthday with “<3<3<3” at the end and she made hers identical to get me back for it.  
GA: Of Course  
GA: Its So Obvious Once You Realise That The Two Of You Have The Combined Emotional Maturity Of A Twelve Year Old Interacting With Their First Crush  
TT: I’ll have you know that I did not change my password to “kANAYA<3<3<3!!!” until I was fourteen.  
TT: Seriously though, how did I fuck this up? Did not keeping a drop of alcohol in the house make her want to try it more? Should we have just left it lying around so that at least she wouldn’t have to start breaking into random houses? If I had have made it hard enough would she have just summoned a bottle of vodka out of the nothingness of the universe purely to spite me?  
GA: While There Is A Well Established Trend Of You And Vriska And Everyone Else In Our Lives Frequently Pointing Out How Much Roxy Resembles Her Biological Mother I Assure You That As A Complete Divergence From The Normal State Of All Things _This Is Not About You Rose._  
TT: Ouch.  
TT: But fair.  
GA: Fortunately As Someone Who Has Had To Coax Multiple Loved Ones Away From Habitual Self Destruction I Can Assure You  
GA: It Is Not The End Of The World  
TT: I feel like I should be of more assistance to her given the similarity of our problems  
TT: Can you bring your daughter along to AA meetings?  
TT: It would probably be considered a faux pas in most circles.  
TT: I think most parents take pride in ensuring their daughter doesn’t spend her free time being miserable around a bunch of alcoholics twice her age.  
GA: I Am Certain That When She Is Ready Roxy Would Very Much Appreciate Any Support You Care To Give  
TT: Bullshit, it’s you she turns to any time she stubs her toe, you’re the one she’s going to ask for a hug when she comes home  
GA: If The Two Of You Were Not So Occupied With Your Childish Game Of Emotional Chicken I Think You Would Find You Have Much More In Common With Each Other Than With Me  
TT: I guess we’re both letting our insecurities get in the way of the girl we actually need to be helping here. I’ll take her to a meeting once she gets back. Maybe we can go for a camping trip while she works through things  
GA: I Am Far More Concerned About Her Relationship With Her Friend Than The Drinking At This Stage  
TT: Alcoholism, kleptomania and girl troubles all at once.  
TT: I suppose Vriska really is the best person to be taking care of her.  
GA: I Agree Wholeheartedly  
TT: It really was quite clever of me to invite her into our little family.  
GA: As I Recall Her Crush On Me Predates Your Debauching Her The Second We Had Her Home  
TT: Nonsense, it was a long campaign of subtle seduction, clearly without my masterminding you two would still be hemming and hawing over who should make the first move.  
TT: I think you’ll find that when it comes to seducing wily spiderwomen I am simply the best there is.  
GA: Are You Trying To Claim That Putting Seafood In Her Underwear Constitutes Subtlety?


	3. Chapter 2

It’s the nightmare again, you realise with dull frustration. The road stretches out before you and at the end of it the red and white gates of the railway crossing are beginning to come down. Warning lights flash back and forward, unheeded omens of impending catastrophe. An approaching glow heralds the train coming towards you from the passenger side. You floor it. Everyone’s making noise around you and you relish the attention. You feel the slick confidence, like tar in your veins, that once you pull them all through this kicking and screaming they will thank you once again for making them awesome by proxy. The part of you that’s detached from the memory wants to join them in screaming at you. The train is almost upon you, its light is brilliant and painful to look upon. Terezi would later tell you she thought it was staring into the oncoming headlight that blinded her, not flying glass in the collision. Tavros whines something from the backseat, you think he might be pleading with you. Aradia is the only one taken by action and she grabs the wheel from under you, yanking hard and pulling the vehicle into a parallel path with the train. She turned you too late and from there everything is chaos and screaming metal and a siren you’ll hear for the rest of your nights.

You don’t do anything as cliche as starting upright, you’ve been through this too many times to pretend you’re surprised. Instead you open your eyes and lie in your own sweat for a while, watching the room light up with the break of dawn. You slept a little longer than usual this time, but you don’t dare push it by trying to drop back to sleep. The siren will still be waiting if you close your eyes. Touching the stump of your left arm, you try to remember what it was like to feel the rest of the appendage, but even in memories of the accident you can only feel numbness along the phantom of what used to be there.

Roxy’s still asleep, though she hardly looks like she’s having pleasant dreams herself. You consider waking her but think better of it. Waking her up mid-way through is only going to help her remember the nightmare better. You leave your prosthetic where it lies beside the bed and go to make yourself a cup of coffee. You get an old Serket hangover cure ready just in case she wakes up feeling yesterday’s spree a little too much and head to the couch to catch the morning news. There’s a bulletin on cat burglar sightings in town, sensationalist garbage mostly, otherwise the weather looks to be clearing up, though you can’t remember a time in your life the summer rain could be predicted, and that’s about it. Roxy joins you about the time you switch over to cartoons.

“Bad dreams?” You ask, not really sure how to make pillow talk with your girlfriends’ kid.

“Yeah.” She doesn’t give you a lot to go off, not so much lost in her thoughts as she is busy hiding them away.

“Did you dream about things that’ve happened already or things that haven’t?”

“Bit of both. Everyone was yelling at me and I didn’t know what to do and then there was blood everywhere and—”

“Shhhhh, come here.” She obliges and joins you on the couch, still in her pyjamas and you in Kanaya’s dressing gown. You wrap your arm around her and bring her in close. You don’t know how to do this shit but if ever a kid needed some kind of affection this one does now. You do your best at trying to hug the tears away before they start. “Stuff that’s happened has already happened, ain’t none of us can change that so there’s no point dwelling,” you want to laugh bitterly at yourself but right now this kid needs to feel like there’s a life after her guilt so you’re going to swallow your self-pity for a little while longer and tell her everything’s going to be okay. “As for the future, took me a long time to learn luck doesn’t have anything to do with it, only what we make for ourselves out there. So don’t you worry about those bad dreams, they aren’t your life and they never have to be.”

You make her breakfast to make up for the fact that everyone forgot to eat dinner last night, of course making breakfast involves pouring a bowl of cereal and adding milk. The kid gives you guff about eating sugary garbage for breakfast this late in your life but turns down your offer to go buy her a heaping bowl of bland-ass old people bran. It’s good to see her getting back to her snarky self bit by bit.

“Okay, so I want to hear what happened,” You tell her once everything’s been washed up and put away.

“Didn’t my moms tell you?” Roxy doesn’t look up from where she’s stuffing your bedsheets into the washing machine. She’d decided they needed a wash after all and it was nothing to do with feeling embarrassed about having defiled them with her teenage romp.

“They told me what they think happened,” you shrug. ”But in my experience what parents think they know is about as far from the truth as you can get, so I want to hear it from you.”

She finishes getting the washing machine started before joining you on the couch. She’s not the same Roxy she was last night, no longer terrified of every little thing that could possibly happen. She jokes throughout her recollection, making fun of herself for learning how to make martinis out of stolen hooch because she wanted to be cool like James Bond. Because Bond always gets the girl. She doesn’t really explain things in chronological order but you piece it together. She drunkenly makes out with a friend who was not down for drunken makeouts and freaked out big time because her moms have always been big on the consent talks with her. After a while feeling like a creep and having no one to talk to she couldn’t hang around the house anymore with Rose and Kanaya constantly doing their happy married couple schtick. Eventually wandering the neighbourhood got boring and Roxy made the jump to visiting people’s houses when they weren’t there. At first it was all relatively harmless, as far as creepy voyeuristic breaking and entering can be at least, but then she discovered that other people’s houses had liquor cabinets and things took a very sharp turn downhill.

She doesn’t go into the extended details of her crime spree from there, but it seems she picked up a hell of a drinking habit in an extremely short space of time, enough to get judgey when you suggested she’d been drinking swill as awful as Jack Daniels (she is a Glenmorangie girl, thank you very much). The story ends when one of her victims actually had a hidden security alarm. And a dog. And an eight foot back wall covered with broken glass. Roxy doesn't disclose the identity of the guy which is probably for the best given you can’t imagine using that information for anything other than kicking down the bastard’s door and slapping him silly until he takes a less violent approach to home security. Roxy points out that she always scoped out the door locks before anything else, and any place that had an obvious security system she just avoided rather than giving into the temptation of going Mission Impossible on an unsuspecting suburban home.

“So you’re a thief, then.” This is perhaps the least impressed you can sound right now, because back you were her age a story like that would have earned the mother of all high fives.

“Excuse you, I am a charming rogue. It wasn’t like I was stealing anything! Well, okay, I stole booze, but booze is replaceable! Plus, I always put the bottles back when I was done, so most of the people wouldn’t even know there was a break-in. It was just stupid fun and I was drunk and locks were easy. You’re supposed to be the cool mom, don’t you freak out on me too!”

“I’m not freaking out, I’m just saying that— Wait, I’m the cool mom? Like, cooler than Rose? Can I get that in writing?”

“I just think of you that way sometimes, like What-Would-Vriska-Do type thinking. You always seem like you’ve got your shit together better than Stressballs One and Two.”

“I have no idea how you could possibly have gotten the impression that I have my shit together, mini-Lalonde. Have you seen my shitty apartment? All full of teenage kleptomaniacs? Does that scream ‘woman living life to the fullest’ to you?”

“Yeah, okay I admit it, your life sucks, Vriska. You’ve got two girlfriends who you can talk to whenever and a bunch of friends who like you and your life sucks.”

“You realise you have to work at that stuff right? I didn’t start out with the amazing relationship or the friends, I worked my butt off to be the kind of person they’d want in their lives. What about your friends? Have you talked to any of them about this?”

 

* * *

 

TT: Dirky baby why don’t you bend that sexy man-ass over my meaty milf thighs and let me spank you  
TT: Well I can think of a number of reasons, chief among them: Roxy what the fuck  
TG: lol, you got me. Why does my mom even have you as a contact if not for cybering your underage butt  
TT: We had to talk about preparations for your last birthday party, remember?  
TG: oh yeah. wow, I’d forgotten that dsisater was a collaboration  
TG: *disaster  
TG: lol ds disaster  
TT: Such overwhelming gratitude.  
TG: inorite? and to reward you for me being so awesome and grateful  
TG: I’m ready to talk about what’s been up the last few months  
TT: Finally.  
TT: By which I mean I’m here for you Roxy, tell me what’s up.  
TG: Okay, so, you know how I have like the tiniest crush on a certain good friend of ours right?  
TT: No Roxy, I did not know.  
TT: It has not been painfully obvious for the last five years exactly how much you want to hold Jane Crocker in your arms and make her your little love muffin.  
TG: Like you can talk Mr. Finds-Any-Excuse-To-Play-Contact-Sports-With-Jake-English  
TG: Anyway, that’s not the pinto  
TG: *point  
TG: So like, we were at her place and we’d maybe snuck in a few drinks of her dad’s cooking wine  
TG: And I kinda tried to make out with her a bit  
TT: Nice.  
TT: Is what I’d say if it sounded like this story has a happy ending.  
TT: So instead I am probably going to say  
TT: Well, fuck.  
TG: Well, fuck indeed  
TG: It was pretty much the opposite of nice  
TG: I mean, like the kiss itself was awesome while it lasted  
TG: But it was not okay, I didn’t ask or anything  
TG: Crap, I’m hyperventilating just thinking about it  
TT: I can see the problem then. Was she not cool with it?  
TG: Yeah, I mean, I think. She shoved me off and I pretty much bolted. She hasn’t talked to me since.  
TT: Okay, firstly, it really sucks that you’re going through this and I can only imagine how horrible you must feel right now  
TT: But this doesn’t sound like a friendship ending kind of big deal?  
TT: And, this is just because I’m your friend and I care about you, but I’m guessing you haven’t contacted her either  
TT: So have you considered that she is maybe freaking out just as much?  
TG: No way man, she’s way collected, she would have talked things out with me.

 

GG: Jake, you have to help me.  
GT: Hey Jane, what’s going on? Are there villains in need of a good thrashing?  
GG: No, no villains.  
GG: I’m just freaking out here. 

 

TT: She hasn’t said anything to me about it, for what that’s worth.  
TT: And if she was outright angry with you I think she probably wouldn’t be bottling it up, she’s pretty candid with her emotions.  
TG: She’s also great at defusing social problems before they get out of hand, no way she’d just be sitting on a bunch of negative feelings.

 

GG: I just feel like I’ve been bottling up so much.  
GG: I never talk to you guys when something goes wrong like this.  
GG: But I always fuck up when I try to fix things and then it just blows up in my face.

 

TG: I mean, in a way this is good, because it’s as sure a sign as I’m going to get that she just doesn’t find me attractive at all. 

 

GT: So what you’re saying that you...  
GG: Yeah.  
GG: I’m pretty attracted to her.  
GG: Just not sexually.

 

TT: And there’s absolutely no way you’re misinterpreting this?  
TG: Nah, it was pretty clear she’s only thinks of me as a friend. 

 

GT: And there’s absolutely no way you’re misinterpreting this?  
GG: No, it was pretty clear that she wanted something more than just romance.  
GG: Wait, no that’s bullshit.  
GG: I have no idea what she wanted.  
GG: But we fell down onto the floor and she was on top of me  
GG: It was all going so fast  
GG: and before I could gather my wits enough to try and talk to her she’d stormed off  
GT: That must of been quite some shove then, I’ve never known anything to cause Roxy to storm off. 

 

TG: Anyway, I’m going to storm off and brood about this some more.  
TT: That is entirely in keeping with your character and definitely a thing you do all the time.  
TG: Man, these last few months, I cannot even  
TT: I get it, you have someone who can hang out with while you’re brooding, right?  
TG: Yeah, I’m staying with my moms’ girlfriend while they stop freaking out about me breaking into people’s houses and drinking all their booze.  
TT: …  
TT: Well uh, have fun?  
TT: Yes that is the most appropriate thing I could say right now and definitely the thing a good friend would say.  
TT: So I said it.  
TG: lol  
TG: <> 

 

GT: So what have you been doing since this happened?  
GT: Not brooding I hope, that sure would be a dumb thing to do  
GG: Not brooding, no.  
GG: Honestly, most of the things that make me happy haven’t been very enjoyable lately.  
GG: I made a cake with a silly face and a mustache yesterday and it barely got a giggle out of me!  
GT: I see, we do have an emergency on our hands then.  
GG: I uh, I also tried to watch some videos  
GT: Videos?  
GG: Of the decidedly age inappropriate variety  
GG: Featuring two girls  
GT: Oh  
GT: My  
GG: Yeah  
GG: I thought if I thought about myself and Roxy doing those things together then maybe I would get into it. I thought I just needed to want it badly enough and then I could find those things  
GG: Well  
GG: Sexy  
GG: But they’re just not!  
GG: I don’t know if I can feel that way, and certainly not when I’m watching two women with way too much makeup for the bedroom contorted in ridiculous positions  
GG: Putting THINGS in each other. Not even logical things that are designed for that,  
GG: Shoes Jake. What if Roxy wants me to put a shoe in her? How could I ever ask her to be in a relationship with me if I couldn’t answer with an enthusiastic yes when she called upon me to find a new purpose for my footwear?  
GT: Well let me state by saying that my knowledge of ‘the ladies’ and ‘the ladies’ related activities is  
GT: Somewhat subpar of what I might have previously indicated  
GT: But I’m pretty sure that being in a relationship doesn’t mean you have to do everything the other person wants all the time.  
GT: And I am also pretty sure that those videos you’ve watched are probably extremely inaccurate when compared to real life  
GT: It seems to be a sad fact of the internet that despite starring only women those videos are pretty much only intended to be watched by men  
GG: Are you saying a guy is going to want me to put a shoe up my  
GT: Literally nobody wants that and I have no idea how you have managed to find the only video in existence where that happens  
GT: The point I’m trying to make isn’t even that you would have to do non-shoe related sexual things  
GT: I’m sure some people just don’t have sex  
GT: But it doesn’t mean they can’t love each other  
GT: I think though  
GT: That maybe this is something you should talk to Roxy about?  
GG: You’re right. Two months without talking is a little childish from either side of the argument. If she’s upset with me then there’s nothing for it but to face the music. At the least I can explain what’s been going through my head for the last few months.  
GT: Just maybe leave out the shoe part.


	4. Intermission 2

AG: Okay I got her talking to her friends again. Not the one she messed up with 8ut hey, a st8rts a st8rt.  
AG: Now what the hell do I do next?  
GA: In Many Circles The Most Popular Strategy For Child Rearing Is Chill The Fuck Out Vriska  
AG: Argh, fuck you this is haaaaaaaard  
GA: It Really Is Not  
GA: Have You Considered Taking Her For A Walk  
GA: Fresh Air Is Usually Beneficial For Children  
GA: For All That Roxy Has Ever Listened To Me On The Topic  
GA: Perhaps If She Finally Has A Role Model Who Does Not Spend All Her Days Indoors Hunched Over Her Computer She Will Discover The Joys Of Cardiovascular Exercise  
AG: Rose getting on your nerves  
GA: Is It That Obvious?  
GA: She Is Not Handling This As Well As I Would Like  
AG: Wh8t’s going on?  
GA: Nothing Concrete  
GA: Just Sulking Around The House  
GA: Checking Cupboards Five Times Before Remembering She Keeps All Our Coffee Mugs In Artful Pile Of Untidied Filth On Her Desk  
GA: Starting Sentences Before Furiously Mashing The Backspace Key To Delete Them  
AG: Any idea wh8t’s 8ugging her?  
GA: Openly She Seems To Think That She Is Somehow The Direct Cause Of Roxy’s Recent Behaviour  
AG: I know Rose likes to da88le in that Freudian stuff a 8it much but I was under the impression the girl Roxy made out with was not her own mother.  
GA: That Is A Good One  
GA: I Will Make Sure To Poke Fun At Her Taste In Psychology Journals The Next Time She Whines  
AG: I’m here to help  
GA: More Seriously  
GA: I Believe She Is Upset At Her Conduct On Finding Out Roxy Had Been Drinking  
GA: She Sees Too Many Parallels Between Her Relationship With Her Mother And Her Relationship With Roxy  
GA: I Would Very Much Like For Them To Just Sit Down And Talk To Each Other For Once  
GA: Rather Than Spinning Ever Greater Webs Of Senseless Obfuscation And Horseshit  
AG: Well maaaaaaaay8e this is a good opportunity for Rose to finally talk to Roxy a8out the you-know-what?  
GA: I Have Tried  
GA: She Seems As Committed To Ignoring Her History With Alcohol As Ever  
GA: I Did Manage To Talk Her Into Taking Roxy To One Of Her Meetings After This Issue With Jane Is Patched Up  
AG: Wait, the kid’s name is Jane?  
GA: Yes  
GA: Why Do You Ask  
AG: Fuuuuuuuuck I’ve 8een calling her Jenny for the last half hour and Roxy hasn’t corrected me fucking once goddammit  
AG: Kanaya  
AG: Kanaya where did you go  
AG: Kanayaaaaaaaa  
GA: My Apologies  
GA: I Was Caught By An Unexpected Bout Of Breathlessness  
AG: 8y which you mean you were laughing at my ass too much to 8reathe  
GA: Yes  
GA: Also I Called Over Rose So That She Could Join In  
AG: That’s right, laugh it up assholes  
AG: 8ut! If I don’t get an apology in the next eight seconds you don’t get to hear the juicy gossip a8out your daughter  
GA: I Apologise With All My Heart And Soul Vriska  
GA: Darling Vriska  
GA: Light Of My Life  
GA: Star Of My Sky  
GA: Now Spill  
AG: It will do for now, 8ut I expect some more literal asskissing next time I’m over.  
AG: So, remem8er how Fef has that kid she takes care of?  
GA: Meenah  
AG: Shhhhhhhh you don’t get to show off your awesome memory for names while I’m talking  
AG: Anyway, I asked her to hang out with Roxy while I was over at your place getting Roxy’s clothes  
GA: Among Other Things  
AG: Still not your turn!  
AG: So I get home and they’re not in the living room where I left them  
GA: Because Teenage Girls Stay Exactly Still At All Times And Comply Perfectly With Instructions  
AG: Do you want to hear this story or 8e snarky  
GA: Can I Not Do Both?  
AG: Make a choice, Fussyface  
GA: Shutting Up  
AG: Good  
AG: Where was I?  
GA: They Were Not In The Living Room  
AG: Rhetorical question, Kanaya!  
AG: So I get in, they’re not in the living room and I call out thinking they’re poking around in my wardro8e or something  
AG: 8ut noooooooo  
AG: The situation seemed to in f8ct involve a minimum of clothes  
AG: See I got the distinct pleasure of having to walk in on your teenage daughter and Feferi’s kid playing tonsil hockey in varying degrees of undress  
AG: I kinda fucked up and spooked Roxy 8ut I don’t think that’s going to put a damper on any future shenanigans those two get up to  
AG: So how about I talk to Fef and set up some more play dates for the two of them?  
GA: Vriska  
GA: You Understand That Roxy Is Going Through A Tough Time Right Now  
GA: Are You Quite Certain It Is Best To Be Playing Matchmaker At This Juncture?  
AG: It’ll 8e good for her  
AG: 8esides, you were about her age when you and Rose had your ‘8reak’ that lasted all of two weeks  
AG: And I remem8er a certain fussy someone falling into my arms right a8out then  
AG: Oh Vriska I Only Want To Wash Away Her Taste With Your Tongue  
GA: Slander  
GA: I Was Much More Eloquent  
GA: But  
GA: If You Believe Spending More Time With Meenah Is In Her Best Interest Then I Will Certainly Not Say No  
AG: Cool, I’ll talk to Fef and set something up  
AG: Roxy’s looking way 8etter by the way. Laughing at her phone and everything  
AG: Well, Rose’s phone I guess.  
AG: 8ut still.  
AG: Laughing’s a good look on her.  
GA: I Agree  
AG: Try to get the other one laughing again as well okay?  
GA: I’ll Do My Best  
AG: <3  
GA: <3 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, audience feedback time. At the moment there are a number of different plotlines coalescing and I'd like to hear from the people reading what they're liking and what they'd like to see more of. The plotlines as I see them are:  
>  1\. Vriska's maternal feelings towards Roxy and her guilt after the Team Charge incident  
> 2\. Roxy's damaged relationship with Jane and the rebuilding of trust to come  
> 3\. Rose's issues with motherhood and her relationship with her daughter  
> 4\. Roxy and Meenah having goofy young people fun times  
> I fully intend to resolve all these plots over the course of the story, however I am undecided on how much focus any given plot should receive and whether each of these plots will end happily, ambiguously or sadly.  
> What I would like to hear from the audience is which of those plots is your favourite and how happy you want its ending to be on a scale of 1 to 8, 8 being pig in mud levels and 1 being grave of the fireflies.  
> There are also a number of bonus plotlines that could be included but I am probably going to cut for time, but I would still like to hear if these are interesting to the readers  
> 5\. Kanaya's feelings regarding Roxy not being her biological daughter (May prevent happy ending of plot #3)  
> 6\. Vriska's relationship with her own mother (May conflict with plot #1)  
> 7\. Roxy gets arrested for all the breaking and entering that she will otherwise get away with completely (Requires happy ending for plot #3)  
> 8\. Vriska's time in prison following the Team Charge incident (likely a separate fic if it happens at all) (Requires more time on plot #1)  
> Thank you all so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 3

“But why do we have to go to the paaaaaaaark?”

“Vriska, how are you the adult in this situation? Plus this was totally your suggestion.” You continue strolling in the direction of greenery. The botanical gardens are just down the end of this street and you’re going to stare every flower right in its stupid face just to spite Vriska’s whining.

“I thought we’d go to the arcade or hang out in a pool hall or something.” You don’t actually know how to play pool, though you’re fairly sure there’s a hall or two around town.

“Come on, we always go to the arcade when we hang out. Don’t you want to impress mom one with how sophisticated you can be by taking me to the gardens and showing me all the scientific names of flowers?” This town has far too many bakeries in it, you quicken your pace and avoid making eye contact with the rows of cakes that are just going to stir up annoyingly sweet memories now. 

“I just hate this part of town.” Vriska hunches up and covers her face with her jacket as she walks past an antique store as if to emphasize just how much she hates this part of town. You think the little shiver she gives after you’ve passed by is maybe overselling it, but it’s her tantrum so you’re not going to criticise. “Why don’t you tell me how talking with your buddy online went, huh?” 

“We didn’t really make a whole bunch of progress, but Dirk did point out I was being a jerk by waiting for Jenny to reach out to me rather than speaking with Jenny first. I really just need to summon up the courage now to send Jenny a message and tell Jenny how sorry I am and that I’ll never do anything like that to her again. Jenny will probably—”

“I said I was fucking sorry alright?! So when are you and JANE going to have this little pow-wow?” She’s doing the look where she’s pretending to be offended, storming up to match your pace with her hands shoved in her pockets.

“I dunno. I might try messaging her tonight. Is it okay if I borrow your computer for it? Mobile keyboards suck and I’d rather not be fighting Mom’s autocorrect trying to turn every sentence into tentacle porn.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you need, twerp.”

“Well if you’re offering, it would make it a hell of a lot easier to talk to her if I could get my contraband back.”

“Kid, letting booze do the talking is how you end up in bed with dudes like Equius, not girls like Kanaya. You’re gonna do fine just being you, trust me. Plus, your moms would string my entrails from here to the moon and back if they found out I was giving you the stuff while they’re trusting me to take care of you.”

You give a grunt of affirmation and walk in silence for a bit. You notice Vriska hunch a bit more, like she’s swallowing down something she wants to say. You do her the favour of ignoring it.

 

* * *

 

Roxy insists on posing for selfies with all the flowers. God, even Lalonde the first didn’t get this weird, though maybe just because selfies hadn’t been invented yet. Maybe she was this weird and it just seemed normal when you were a kid yourself. Maybe ‘weird’ is a label old people apply to jokes and games they’re too crotchety to understand anymore. You join in for a couple of the selfies.

You wander from tree to tree, poking at name plaques, reading about locations and growing conditions, it’s all verrrrrrrry interesting. You wish you’d said that aloud so someone could appreciate your sarcasm. You think Roxy manages to pick up on it anyway, she begins to bump into your shoulder when you walk. At first it seems almost accidental, the normal thing that happens when two uncoordinated dorks like yourselves try to do the forward motion thing. Then it seems a little more deliberate and you start to nudge her back every time she bumps into you. Then the little shit pushes you over a fence and bolts.

You scramble back to your feet in time to catch a glimpse of her rounding a corner. You’re probably going to be feeling that tumble tomorrow, but you managed to catch a fair amount of it on your arm rather than the prosthetic so at least you’re not going to have those awful bruises down your ribs. Rounding the corner doesn’t do you any good, though you do learn the interesting fact that your town’s botanical gardens are apparently host to way too fucking many conifers. You can’t see any signs of where she’s gone. You panic.

“Roxy!” You shout out through the foliage. “Show yourself, you brat!”

A familiar giggle whistles through the leaves, hard to pin down the source but enough to start moving out into the trees. “Nuh-uh, you’re going to have to find me!” The mocking peal of her laughter-ridden voice seems to be coming from your left, though you can’t hear so well in that ear since the accident. You stalk further into the clutch of the trees, eyes darting.

“What are you, twelve? Get out here!” She shouldn’t have gotten away from you so easily. Rose would have your hide if she found out your guard was down long enough for her to get the drop on—  
  
“Got you!” A weight latches itself onto your back and you narrowly avoid losing your balance. Warm hands are wrapped around your chest and for a second the relief is palpable. Then you really do lose your balance.

“Woah, shit, sorry, Vriska” comes the voice from above you as you try to work out how you managed to end up on your back between the part where you were standing up and the part where you were not. Roxy has ended up straddling you and finally seems to have realised that you maybe don’t enjoy falling down as much as she thought you would. She’s a shit, but she’s here and you didn’t lose her. You grab her firmly and pull her down to your level in a fierce bear hug that is totally awesome and not sappy in the least.

“Got you.”

 

* * *

 

“So we should probably talk,” Vriska begins, mouth full of fries. “About how permanent this arrangement of ours is going to be.” Arrangement probably refers to you staying at her place, not the part where you bought her junk food to make up for glomping her half to death. “Because as you may have noticed, my apartment’s kind of tiny and though you may be mini-Lalonde you are not mini, Lalonde.”

“Wow, did you just call me fat while stuffing your face with junk food? Rude, Vriska, very rude.” You really hope she doesn’t notice that you’re dodging the—  
  
“Objection, as a friend of mine would say, you are dodging the question.” Aw poop.

“I didn’t hear any question in that sentence Vriska, you just awkwardly implied you were going to be kicking me out soon.” You suppose maybe Dirk could put you up for a bit while you try to—

“I’m not kicking you out, kid, don’t give me that look. We just need to have a talk about your plans here and how long you’re going to need the unorthodox living arrangements.” Okay, yeah, Vriska’s always been big on having her space, so sharing her tiny flat with you is probably not something she enjoys hugely.

“I… I don’t really know?” Like, maybe forever, you don’t know how you’re going to look mom two in the eyes after some of the things you said to her. “I’m not sure how to really talk to my moms about the stuff that’s happened and—”

“Your moms have to love you, so forget about them for now, what you need to focus on are your friends, because trust me you can fuck up those for life.”

“Wow, mom three, thanks for that, really not helping!”

“Ugh, no, okay that came out waaaaaaay wrong. Look, your friends have your back, always, which is why it’s extra important that you put the time into those relationships that they deserve. If I didn’t have Terezi to pull my butt out of the fire every five minutes I’d probably still be in jail so you better believe I talk to her all the time and tell her about the awesome stuff I’m up to so she knows how lucky she is to have me as a friend.”

“Wait, back up a bit, you were in jail?”

“Okay, well, technically it’s prison when you’re sentenced, jail is just like for holding you between arrest and trial, so really—”

“Objection! Dodging the question.”

“Fine! There was a car crash and people were hurt and it was my fault, so I did time. Now can we stop talking about me for a bit,  we were discussing your living arrangements—"

“Is that how you lost your arm?”

“Yes, they couldn’t save it after the crash so it went in the garbage, now about your—”

“Is that why Terezi is blind?”

“Yes, she got a faceful of glass and now she can’t see for shit. Still not the point! Let’s get back on—”

“Who else was hurt?”

“My friends, okay! I was an idiot and there’s a guy in a wheelchair and a girl in the ground because I was a fucking idiot. Are you happy now? Was this a satisfying conversation for you?!”

The silence hangs in the air between you for what feels like an age. Sweat prickles across your skin and everything feels too hot. You pushed her too far. You’re not even processing what she just said, the fact that the woman you’re living with once went to prison barely registers compared to the roar of blood in your ears. You feel like you’re going to vomit. She hasn’t stopped staring. You can’t breathe. This booth is so very small.

Your vision comes back about a block away, you’re breathing hard with the fresh air after running for what feels like a whole marathon. You peek back around the corner but you can’t see Vriska anywhere. You must have lost her. Or she was glad to be rid of you. One more vital relationship down the crapper. This calls for a celebration. You start looking for a place you can get a drink.

 

* * *

 

The apartment feels empty without her. Most days this box feels too small to contain just you on your own, but without her it feels too big, too lifeless. She has a way of filling up rooms with a smile and she’s maybe done smiling at you for a while. You rest your head in your hands, elbows on your knees as you try to think of what to do next. Roxy is gone and you made her leave. Will she go back home, tell her parent that you screamed in her face for asking a perfectly innocent question about the person she was trusting to take care of her? More likely she’s out there, fending for herself after having her last safe port taken away. You can’t tell Kanaya, though you really should. She’ll never talk to you again if she finds out what’s happened. You keep replaying every time the three of you have talked about Roxy, about how she turned out better than any of you could have expected, a better kid than any of you deserved. She’s a brat, but she’s also the sunshine in all your lives. 

You were planning on wallowing another good half hour but your phone interrupts you with a chirp.

 

CC: Hey, Fishka  
AG: I have told you so many times not to call me th8t, punk  
CC: Yeah, yeah, I gotta be quick  
CC: I’m with Roxy  
CC: She just ducked into the bathroom but we’re at this sleazy bar, Derse  
CC: She’s being reel friendly and all but I think she might be messed up?  
CC: Some dude was buying her drinks before I told him I’d call the cops  
AG: Shit, w8 there, I’ll come get you  
CC: It’s cool, I’ll get her back to your place reel soon.  
AG: You get her 8ack here now  
CC: >8(  
AG: I’m not playing around kid, you two should not be hanging out in a place like Derse  
CC: Yeah this ain’t reely my scene anyway, gimme fifteen minutes.  
AG: You have eight.

 

You spend seven minutes pacing the living room before your phone pings again.

 

CC: So listen  
CC: Roxy’s kinda  
CC: Resistant  
CC: To the idea of going back to your place just now  
AG: Shit, that’s fair. Just make sure to get her out of that 8ar, anything you guys want to do I’ll pay you 8ack for l8r  
CC: What kinda clownfish do you take me for? We’re already back in the apartment building, we’re just chilling in my room. Is it cool if we stay here for a bit?  
AG: Yeah  
AG: Yeah, that’s cool  
AG: I owe you one  
CC: Hanging out with Roxy ain’t a favour to you, Serket  
CC: It’s worth it all on its own

 

* * *

 

The world rolls a bit as you try to lift your head so you say fuck that noise and drop back onto whatever soft pillowy thing you were lying on before. 

“Did you just headbutt me in the fricking boob, Lalonde?” Oh hey it’s fishgirl junior, you were just hanging out with her, weren’t you? Fancy meeting her boob here where you’re lying. You nuzzle your face into the softness a bit and groan. An arm wrapped around you squeezes tighter and hot damn does that feel nice. You meow a little in appreciation because that seems like the appropriate thing to do and nuzzle a little harder. Everything is great, you’re amazing and make the best choices.

“So are you seriously just going to lie on me and meow like a cat rather than telling me what’s up?” Meenah’s voice is hushed and husky and you think about trying to take her clothes off again but your hands aren’t doing the co-ordinatey thing at the moment so you shelve that idea for later.

“I could try kissing you again.” Your voice comes out slurred but your eyebrows waggle just fine as you turn to give her a look. She pulls a disgusted face like you just said you were going to give her cooties. Which you totally are going to, by the way, as soon as you can stand up again. You manage to drag yourself around onto your arms and move in to press your lips to hers. You continue to be an awesome kisser but she’s just sort of taking it rather than pressing back into you so you pull back as quickly as you can. “Can— can I kiss you?” You check, brows knitting together as you feel yourself sober up a bit.

Meenah doesn’t answer but she does nod, before dipping up to give you a peck at the lips. Relieved, you sink back down to boobtown to rest your head on her once more.

“What time is it?” You ask drowsily. You don’t remember a whole bunch after you snuck into that bar with the droopy eyed bouncer and found a sap willing to buy a pretty young thing drinks till she dropped. You remember staring at Jane’s name on your chumroll for five minutes before deciding Meenah could fill in for her bestie duties and come get wasted with you. You remember swooning at Meenah for defending your honour at the bar and laughing yourself stupid on the floor before they kicked you out. You remember Meenah telling you about this completely radical place you could go next and then you were in boobtown, which in her defence is just as radical as promised.

“It’s like 2am, you been sleeping a while Roxy.” Meenah strokes your hair a bit. You decide you like that.

“Why’m I still dressed then?” You mutter into her cleavage, feeling sleep closing in on you again.

Meenah bristles under you. “Cause I wasn’t about to tell you to strip when you didn’t know which way was up. You uncomfortable?”

You groan and sit up. You don’t bother to tell her what you’re doing before you pull your shirt over your head and get out of your pants and socks. After a bit of reaching around you decide you are not getting your hands on that wily bra buckle until you’re a lot more sober and turn to Meenah. She blushes furiously but helps you unclasp and then you’re able to get the thing off and slide back under the covers. It doesn’t take Meenah that long to get down to her underwear and she’s lying down next to you, not under you. You roll over and press your back into her. You are the little spoon. It is you. You feel consciousness drifting away from you as her arm wraps back around your shoulders and squeezes you tight. You sleep in her arms.

 

* * *

 

“Good morning!” Shouts the demon that bursts in through Meenah’s door at an ungodly hour, rending your poor head in twain. You’re bleary enough at being returned to the land of the living that it takes you a moment to realise where you are and where you probably shouldn’t be. You tune back out of reality as Meenah bursts out of bed and bravely chases the demon back out of her room, squawking and shouting more like a seagull than any kind of fish. The covers are so comfy and it’s not to hard to bury your face in a pillow and drown out the din. Sleep finds you for the third time since Meenah took you home.

 

* * *

 

Meenah took you home.

 

* * *

 

You’re in Meenah’s bed.

 

* * *

 

You slept with Meenah.

 

That last thought sticks.

 

You wake.

 

Meenah’s at the foot of the bed when you lift your head up, she’s already dressed in cut-off denim shorts, fancy pink mesh stocking and a loose collared top that shows off a lot of decolletage. You like to think you’re showing off a little more because you’re still topless. Meenah holds out a mug of black goop towards you and you decide to take a sip before panicking. It tastes foul and she gives you an apologetic tilt of the eyebrows and an awkward smile. You notice she’s done a better job on her mascara than normal, making you wonder exactly how much time she had to get ready while you were face-planted in her pillows.

“Do you— do you know where my, uh—” You struggle to find the words you’re looking for through the headache. Meenah gestures to a clean set of your clothes sitting in front of you on the bed rather than open her mouth. You watch her eyes trail from the clothes back up to you, lingering on your chest. Any other day you’d be revelling at the idea of someone dumbstruck by the sight of you, but the world is still spinning a little and the coffee is waking you up enough to make you feel that’s unfair.

Meenah thoughtfully turns around while you get up and get dressed and what do you know, your outfits match. Bet no one planned that out in advance. Fortunately your mom forbids mesh stockings (not on a point of modesty, simply one of fashion sense), instead Meenah’s fetched your dark blue stockings to go with the black shorts Vriska brought back from your house. When Meenah turns back around she’s got that apologetic look back on her face. You attempt to remove it with a quick peck on the lips.

“Vriska, she’s uh…” Meenah trails off as she tries to start. “She’s in the living room. Waiting for you.”

Your head is still killing you but everybody tells you facing up to what you did is the biggest part of growing up. You never really believed them, given mom two takes blame dodging and redirecting into an art form, but you’re too hungover to not face the music right now. Meenah doesn’t move as you step past her and out into the living room.

 

Vriska looks pale in the light of all the aquariums, strung out and sitting on Feferi’s couch with her head in her hands. Feferi has an arm around her shoulder and seems to be comforting her in the same way a person pets a venomous animal. She looks exhausted, but she manages to lift her head as you step out into the middle of the roof. You speak first.

“I’m sorry.”

Vriska seems genuinely shocked to hear that and lifts onto her feet instantly. “Nuh-uh, no way, after what happened you are not sorry, I am sorry. I am the sorriest and there’s no way you’re taking that from me.” She stands back from you, rocking a bit on the balls of her feet, like she wants to come in closer but doesn’t know how much personal space you’re needing. You don’t close the distance.

“I guess I never did answer you back at the diner,” Vriska seems confused for a second before remembering what your conversation was about. You look down at your feet, rather than make eye contact. “I think I’m still kind of messed up about everything. I don’t know when I’m going to be okay to go home, or when I’ll have fixed things with my friends. I really don’t want to impose on you, really, but I don’t have a bunch of options.” You lift back up to meet her gaze, she’s completely unreadable but you plow through anyway. “Vriska, can I live with you a little longer?”

She digs her hands into her pockets, hunches her shoulders up and looks to the side. “Yeah, yeah that’s cool mini-Lalonde. As far as I’m concerned,” she meets your eyes for a second before flicking back to look at the floor. “My place is just as much your home as Kanaya and Rose’s place. You can stay as long as you like.”

You give her that hug she was waiting for.

 

* * *

 

TG: Hey  
TG: Um, I know it’s been a while  
TG: But I’ve had kind of a rough month and I thought  
TG: Hey, that’s the kind of thing you normally talk about with your bestie  
TG: Cause she’ll say something goofy and fun like “shucks buster” and make it all seem better  
TG: And I know I haven’t done well by you  
TG: But I guess it would really mean a lot to me if we could still be friends  
GG: Roxy, you don’t need to be all hat in hand about it  
GG: Though if you’ve taken an increased appreciation in hats in the two months since we’ve talked then I certainly wouldn’t be upset hoo hoo!  
GG: I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch  
GG: It was just  
GG: Tough  
GG: Figuring out what I wanted to say to you after what happened  
TG: You don’t have to say antyhign if you don’t want to  
TG: *anything  
TG: Like, I completely get it  
TG: I was a jerk and I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking  
TG: After all the lessons my moms drilled into me about consent I shouldn’t have done something like that  
GG: Wait, what are you saying?  
TG: I’m trying to say I’m sorry for forcing myself on you like that, expecting you to magically fall in love with me because I smooched you was some hollywood executive levels of stupid.  
GG: So you’re not mad at me?  
TG: Why would I be mad at you?!!?!?!  
TG: Look at all these question marks  
TG: Does a person who is mad have this many question marks I didn’t think so  
GG: I just thought that you were upset that I didn’t take things further  
TG: Why would I be mad you didn’t want to do more things when I didn’t ask if you wanted to do things in the first place?  
TG: I mean, it’s not like you like me that way  
TG: There was just this dumb part of my brain that thought since you didn’t ever talk about people you think are hot or stuff like that, maybe you just needed a push and then we could do stuff  
TG: I should have just asked you  
TG: I’m sorry Janey  
TG: Janey, are you still there?  
GG: Yes, sorry, just didn’t really know what to say.  
TG: Actually since you’ve made your feelings apparent and only see me as a friend that makes it a lot easier!  
TG: We can just forget about this stupid crush thing and go back to being regular old bffsies.  
GG: Haha, yes!  
GG: Friends!!!!  
TG: Maybe you could help me sort out some stuff that has been weighing on me lately?  
GG: Well what are friends for Roxy!!!!!  
TG: Jane are you alright?  
TG: You’re getting exclamation marks all over the frigging place  
GG: Me?  
GG: HOO HOO HOO!  
GG: I'm just  
GG: Terrific!  
GG: I'm feeling so...  
GG: Friendly!!!  
GG: I clearly just want to be a good friend and bring all my AMAZING FRIENDLINESS to bear on your problems.  
GG: Friendlystyle! Ahahahah?  
GG: Shit I mean  
GG: Ahahahah!  
TG: That’s aces. Jane you’re a sweetheart.  
TG: Ugh, Vriska’s bugging me for her laptop back  
TG: Thanks a million for being so understanding and stuff  
TG: We’ll talk more later, byeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!

 

GG: I fucked up  
GT: Oh for frigs flipping sake

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having a bit of a crisis of confidence with my writing, apologies for the delays.
> 
> Next chapter is likely going to introduce a new perspective, let me know in the comments which of the three characters you would like to see through the eyes of:
> 
> a) Meenah  
> b) Jane  
> c) Kanaya
> 
> As always any other feedback you care to provide is hella appreciated


	6. Intermission 3

“So, looked like things went pretty okay last night?” You’re having a hard time telling whether Vriska meant that as a question or a statement of fact, given she’s really slathering the aura of confidence on since you got back. Even her questions sound vaguely like orders.

“Like you weren’t trying to peek over my shoulder every five seconds. You should really find a soap opera to watch rather than trying to horn in on my teen drama.” You’ve gone back to sassing her for it, the two of you slipping seamlessly back into your normal rapport. It’s nice in its own way, feels familiar in a way that’s comforting. You’re no less close for all the sass. “So where are we headed?”

“You’ll see when we get there.” It’s not as ominous as it could be, but it sure as hell isn’t informative.

 

* * *

 

“Gee, Vriska, I sure am glad you took me out to see your favourite tree.” The brat’s gone back to sassing you, which is as good a sign as any, you suppose.

“Okay, you can shut up now. For one, yes it is in fact my favourite tree and better than all the trees in your shitty botanical gardens could ever hope to be, but! That’s not why I brought you here.” You pat a worn patch of grass between two of the trees gnarled roots and Roxy sits down, after making a big show of brushing the spot as clean as can be. You plonk down next to her and stare down memory lane. Figuratively and literally. Literally because some moron named this path Memory Lane, likely as some lame joke. Figuratively, as you tell Roxy, because “This is where we went to college, your moms and me. If Kanaya and I had plans to hang out I’d tell her to meet me right here, because most of my lectures were round this side of campus and hers were way down the other end. That really got her goat.”

“So what does this place have to do with your car crash?” Roxy’s being a little bit more gentle with her questions now, and it shows in the way she hesitates while asking them. You’re going to have to live with doing that to her. You can only hope eventually she trusts you enough to ask candidly.

“The whole Team Charge incident, Terezi picked the name don’t look at me like that, the whole thing started right here. This is the spot your mom dumped me.” You thought she’d interrupt you at that point with some generic statement of incredulity but it appears she’s just ready to hear out the story. “Kanaya and I dated, briefly, in university. She and Rose were on a break, some drama or other, I don’t remember. Even though Lalonde and I had more classes together, I ended up being the one to console Kanaya after they made the decision and traded back all the clothes they’d been stealing from each other. She was pretty distraught about the whole thing and between sobbing about Rose ‘not being adequately prepared for long term commitment’ and ‘wanting to play the field like some manner of sportsballer’, Kanaya and I ended up kind of hooking up.

“I wanted things steady but she always seemed to think of it as this casual thing while she was busy being her own woman for the first time since high— ugh, actually, you know what? This story isn’t about my love life, bug your mom for the sordid details some time. The point is about two weeks into us being a thing Kanaya comes strolling right down that lane with this stupid grin on her face and just gushes about how Rose wanted to get back together and make things work and blah blah blah. All very mushy.”

“And that meant she was breaking up with you.” Roxy states it matter of fact, but her look is pretty downcast. Kid’s got a lot of sympathy for her age. “She probably didn’t even notice how much you loved her, huh?”

“I loved her since we were fourteen. Thought maybe it was finally my turn to be the special person in her life again. Didn’t really figure she’d jump back to Rose so quickly. Don’t blame her too much, it’s not like I was being all open and honest about my feelings at the time. So yeah, it wasn’t even a proper breakup, she just thanked me for taking care of her the last two weeks like I’d been cat sitting for her rather than dating. Though when you get down to it, both involve a lot of—”

“Don’t you even finish that sentence, you gross hornbag of an old lady. We’re talking about my mom here.” You laugh and the kid chucks you in the shoulder.

“So yeah, that was that. Kanaya skipped off to hang out with your other mom and do whatever the two of them did in their spare time. I went to the bar. Terezi was hanging out with Team Charge, Tavros and Aradia, who we knew from the role playing society on campus, there were some other hangers on around but I don’t really remember them. Now as far as geeks went, everyone knew Team Charge were the only roleplayers who were even remotely as hardcore as Team Scourge, that’s Terezi and Me, so we somehow got a crowd going on when I goaded Aradia into a drinking contest. Something about the crowd, the contest, that smug look on Aradia’s face, the breakup with Kanaya, I got fucked up quick and things stopped feeling like reality and started feeling like just another game. The rest of the evening is kind of faded, I was on my feet but blackout drunk and Terezi had to tell me a lot of this stuff ‘cause I just don’t remember it. We leave the bar and I get in the car to drive. Terezi and Tavros were in the back and Aradia in the front. I don’t even remember how the fuck I ended up with the keys or where we were going, Terezi doesn’t either. She likes to hog the blame when we talk about it, like the fact that she didn’t stop me was somehow more important than my hands on the wheel.”

“Vriska,” Roxy’s hand closes around your bicep, you didn’t realise how tense you’d been until she touched you. It takes a few breaths before you can let your fist uncurl, noticing the marks your nails have made in your palm. “You don’t have to tell me the whole thing if you don’t want to.” She rubs up and down on your arm a bit, it’s not much of a calming gesture but it helps ground you, helps you remember where you are and what you’re doing. Today the story isn’t about you, it’s about her.

“It’s okay.” You reassure her. “Happened a long time ago, but it’s still a bit raw.” You give yourself a bit more time before continuing, trying to focus on how nice a day it is to be sitting in the shade hanging out on an empty college campus. “Eventually we came to this level crossing, lights were flashing and the boom gate was coming down.” The lights flash back and forward in your mind, you can see them with your empty eye socket. You fight to keep from dissociating. “I see the train coming and think to myself ‘yeah we can make it” before flooring it. I used to do dumb shit all the time back then, stunts to prove I was the coolest kid around, that nothing could faze me. I always had something to prove. The others, they tried to stop me, but I wouldn’t listen. After it became apparent I wasn’t going to slow down Aradia made a grab for the wheel and turned us out of a collision at the last second.”

You have to take a moment to compose yourself, trying not to let the tightness in your throat ruin the story by rendering you a squeaky blubbery mess. “That’s the shittiest part, you know? Tavros was whining like usual, Terezi wasn’t even saying anything and I was trying to get us all killed. Aradia could’ve swung the car the other way and maybe I would be dead and I’d deserve it. But instead the only person actually helping was the only person killed.

“Listen, kid, let me tell you. Drinking doesn’t have to fuck you up, it doesn’t. But using it to run from your problems is the fastest road to letting it do just that. I was a stupid kid too and I wanted to drown out how much I hated myself with booze and stupid antics. It cost me an arm and an eye and a friend. It put a stupid guy I used to have a stupider crush on in a wheelchair. You fucked up with this Jane girl, what, a month ago? She’s over it, and if she’s not, fuck her, it’s not worth hurting yourself over. I’m not telling you this because your moms asked me to or to impart some kind of condescending life lesson, it’s because I’ve been down the road you’re on and it goes straight to shit faster than you would ever believe. Don’t make my mistakes, if you’re feeling like shit then talk it out, don’t let it control you.”

Roxy is silent for a long time. You can’t tell if this was actually a good idea, if any of this is getting through to her at all or if it’s just coming across like another heavy handed lecture from some adult who couldn’t understand what she’s going through.

“Yeah, okay.”

She gives you that hug you were waiting for.


	7. Chapter 4

TT: Sounds like that was one intense feelings jam then.  
TG: inorite? is it poasible for a thing to be cathartic in like a sympathetic way?  
TG: *possible  
TG: like woah i feel so relieved that you got that off your chest  
TG: really helping me breathe easier now that you ain’t busy keeping all them secrets in  
TG: only breathing pure secretless air now  
TG: and with that and the thing with janey wrapped up things are really looking pretty resolved

GT: Great galumphing grasshoppers jane things are not even close to resolved!  
GG: I know, I know, she was just so apologetic and I panicked and I just sort of ran with it?  
GG: I’ve got to figure out something soon, having thrown myself so spectacularly into the friendzone  
GG: The longer I bask in the adoration of her completely platonic friendship the less likely that she’ll ever  
GG: You know  
GG: Kiss me again  
GT: Okay firstly the friendzone doesn’t exist and as well as not existing happens to be a dumb concept for morons  
GT: Did our good friend mister strider resort to such terms after we quite rightly settled between ourselves that his more than amicable feelings, though perfectly understandable, were not welcome on the sporting field?  
GT: Of course not  
GT: Like the true champ he is he shelved his greater desires and continued to pursue our platonic palling around without any unnecessary pawing  
GT: Where possible

TG: i dunno, i mean there hasn’t really been a bigger friendzoning since you and Jake cleared the air  
TT: I’ll admit Jake didn’t use the word “friend” so much when he dumped me squarely in the zone designated for friends and friends alone, no parking weekdays,  
TT: But you’ll get over it, right?  
TT: I mean that’s a thing that could totally be possible  
TT: I’m sure that someone in the history of the human race has managed to successfully get over their high school crush.  
TT: Probably  
TG: ugh you can just admit it I’m fucked  
TG: ain’t never gonna get over that girl

GG: And she’s probably already over me  
GG: I should just try to do the same  
GG: After all, Dirk was able to move on from his crush on you easily enough

TT: Same. Well, same but replace “girl” with “inexplicably hot dorky beefcake”

GT: Id normally say “that’s the ticket” or some other quaint affectation  
GT: After all mister striders example is one we should all strive towards  
GT: But if you both have feelings for each other i feel you should at least consider being honest  
GT: Who knows where honesty might lead you?  
GT: I admit to some regret on how i handled things with dirk  
GT: If i hadve told him i needed more time to think about it rather than brushing him off so quickly  
GT: Who knows what might have blossomed?  
GT: Alas bosom chums is all we shall ever be as hes no doubt moved on to greener pastures  
GT: So I stress that you should not let what opportunity you have pass you by!

TT: But yeah, you just have to let this one pass you by.  
TT: Try talking to her, see if things can be happy with the two of you as friends

GT: After all its not like she’s already seeing other lady suitors so soon after your rejection

TG: I will, I just feel a little bad angsting over the whole thing since I’ve basically been hooking up with Meenah

GT: I mean she might be her mothers daughter but I doubt shes already managed to wrangle the hearts of two lovely ladies

TG: though I mean part of me wants to try to do the poly thing like my moms  
TG: you should see them when I catch them being all mushy  
TG: it actually looks pretty sweet  
TG: but it’s kind of moot if janey doesn’t feel the same way  
TG: dirk yo, you there?

TT: Okay I am officially done with girl talk for the moment.  
TT: We are at girl talk capacity  
TT: No more girl talk will be accepted until 9am Monday  
TT: What are you up to?  
GT: More or less the same im afraid

TG: hey janey, how you doing?  
GG: Roxy!!! What an unexpected pleasure  
GG: Well I mean not unexpected, you said you would contact me again and pleasure because it’s always nice to  
GG: You know what forget that, hi??? What is cracking in Lalonde town tonight?  
TG: not so much, just thought I might get your opinion on a thing  
GG: Of course!! We’re friends, opinions are a thing we can solicit from each other.

TT: You’re shitting me.  
TT: So she?  
GT: Yes  
TT: Which means they?  
GT: Absolutely  
TT: But they don’t??  
GT: Thats right

TG: but i mean she’s pretty obviously got a crush on vriska so i don’t even know what my long term chances there are  
GG: That definitely sounds like quite the pickle.  
TG: and maybe a committed thing isn’t even what both of us need?  
TG: we kinda seem like we’re good with fooling around for the time being  
GG: Mhm.  
TG: i mean don’t get me wrong she’s a swell fucking gal  
TG: lol okay that was unintentional, we haven’t done anything like that yet  
GG: Mmm.  
TG: but we’re both doing reely different things with our  
TG: hang on jake’s bugging me  
TG: probably wants to blather on about himself completely oblivious to the other person in the conversation for a while  
TG: whattadork

TG: wassup man  
GT: I am under strict orders from our good friend mister strider to tell you to “keep your mouth shut about the fishgirl because the waters just got hella murky”  
TG: lol i’m guessing he didn’t tell you what any of that meant when he told you to say it  
GT: Alas you know him all too well  
GT: It seems we are both doomed to be mutually confounded by that dashing scallywag until such time as he sees fit to relieve us of our befuddlement  
TG: well shit  
GT: Well shit indeed!

GG: Well, shit.  
TT: Yes, shit.  
GG: He shouldn’t have told you that  
TT: You’re absolutely right because friends never share each other’s secrets around behind their backs acting in what they think to be their friend’s best interest  
GG: I said I was sorry! I thought Roxy would help with  
GG: Ugh, you know what, beside the point, two wrongs, etc.  
TT: Hey speaking of two wrongs not making a right you know what would be a really good example?  
TT: Not telling Roxy about your feelings and then getting mad when she moves on and picks up some other girl  
GG: I wasn’t mad! I was just  
GG: The way she talks about Meenah is really sweet  
GG: I kind of want her to talk about me like that  
TT: She always does  
TT: And she hasn’t stopped even when she thought you hated her guts  
TT: So there’s not really any reason for you to get jealous of fishgirl  
TT: Near as I can tell she should be jealous of you

GT: It sure is great to hear that your new paramour is so supportive of your feelings for Jane  
GT: Are you sure shes not just putting on a brave face to get on your good side?  
TG: lol she’s not dirk  
TG: er actually forget I said that  
GT: Said what?  
TG: exactly  
TG: so yeah, meenah’s actually been totally cool about my feelings for janey

AG: So you’re suuuuuuuure you’re cool a8out her feelings for Jenny?  
CC: yeah, it’s actually kinda adorabubble hearing her talk aboat her crush  
CC: be cool if they wound up hooking up  
CC: cute buncha dorks

TG: and i don’t think that’s just because janey doesn’t feel that way about me  
GT: Which is a thing that we have verified and is completely true  
GT: Um perhaps forget i said that  
TG: lol said what?  
GT: Precisely

GG: Look, even if I told Roxy  
GG: and by some miracle she can still like me after what I did  
GG: it would never work  
TT: Why wouldn’t it?  
GG: We’re too different  
TT: Sort of, but sometimes that makes a good couple  
GG: I don’t think I could give her what she needs  
TT: Roxy has said, and I’m quoting here “idk soemtiems i see her smile and i’m like”  
TT: “thats it”  
TT: “thats all i need to live on”  
TT: “*sometimes”

GT: And they call me corny!  
TG: stfu i just really feel that way about her

GG: Dirk, that’s really sweet of her to say  
GG: but I still think I might fall short of her expectations  
TT: I think you will live up to her expectations exactly because nobody has ever put their high school crush on a pedestal before  
TT: Or, just maybe, you and Roxy can deal with reality being a bitch when the time comes  
GG: You don’t understand  
TT: It’s kind of hard to understand when you’re obviously not telling me something.  
TT: But let’s keep having this conversation where you tell me no and I say yes and you say no for a while  
GG: I don’t think I can give her sex  
TT: Okay gonna ignore that that’s a really weird way to phrase that  
TT: Are you not into girls?  
GG: I don’t think I’m into anyone in that way  
TT: So  
TT: And I’m trying to be understanding here  
TT: You have a crush on Roxy  
TT: Which, by the way, you’re not subtle about at all  
TT: Like that time you had your little “goth phase” purely so you could have an excuse to borrow her black lipstick  
TT: Or that summer you invited her round every day so the two of you could watch all your Poppop’s TV shows back to back  
TT: She told me you spent half those episodes holding onto her for dear life and trying not to cry  
TT: Her exact words by the way were “I told her everything was going to be okay and it felt like a promise, like I had to dedicate my whole life to making sure my Jane was able to smile.”  
TT: So we know Roxy has a crush on you too  
TT: But for some reason you would rather the two of you never got your shot at being the most adorable couple in all the lands  
TT: Because you’re worried she only wants to get in your pants?  
GG: No, that’s not it.  
GG: I just can’t ask her to be in a relationship with me if I’m not going to be able to give her what she needs  
TT: Doesn’t she get to make that decision?  
GG: I don’t want to get her hopes up if it’s not going to work  
TT: Well that sounds like a well thought out decision that you’re definitely not going to regret every time you see her smiling or hanging off another girl’s arm.  
TT: Good luck with that  
GG: Promise you won’t do anything drastic like telling Roxy  
TT: Sure thing

TT: I’m going to tell Roxy  
GT: Devilfucking dickens dirk  
GT: I know for sure you didnt convince jane in the few minutes you were away  
GT: If she doesnt want roxy to know then we should do the honorable thing and respect her wishes  
TT: So you’d rather that two of your friends  
TT: Who are fucking perfect for each other by the way, two peas in a pod with their whole “not talking about what’s bugging them” schtick  
TT: You’d rather they never know how the other feels  
TT: Because Jane has two left feet when it comes to the horizontal mambo?  
TT: Wait that sounds like she’s bad at it, forget I said that  
TT: Pretend I said something cool instead

TG: so hey jake said you and dirk were talking about, any juicy goss?  
GG: Oh just the usual, he said something cool and that was about it  
TG: classic di-stri

GT: I just think its not our place to decide these things for them  
GT: And i for one can certainly see where jane is coming from  
GT: I mean it seems a perfectly reasonable course of action if you were worried you might hurt someone you cared about by admitting you have feelings for them  
GT: Especially if you’d previously spurned their advances  
GT: And it would seem only right to keep your trap shut and swallow down on all that regret  
GT: Because at least this way you could keep talking to them like the good bros you were  
TT: Jake this isn’t about how obviously you want me right now  
TT: Though it’s fun to imagine you and Jane quietly stewing together over what you could have had if either of you had the mangrit to up and say something  
TT: Roxy needs to know

GA: Roxy Needs To Know  
TT: She really doesn’t.

GT: She really doesnt  
GT: And you can accuse me of all manner of cockamamie and faffing about and i wont deny it  
GT: But we have to trust that jane knows what shes doing  
TT: Jane doesn’t know the word for asexual I’m not sure I really trust her to say anything to Roxy  
TT: I’m just going to push things along for them  
TT: I’ll be real subtle about it.

TT: So hey you want to bang Jane right?  
TG: di-stri what the hell?  
TT: Simple question, yes or no.  
TG: okay well first off eff u for asking like that  
TG: but yeah I guess  
TT: Okay well that’s off the table, can’t bang Jane  
TG: i know alright? she made it pretty clear we’re only ever going to be friends  
TT: No she didn’t.  
TT: You showed me the logs, she never said she wasn’t attracted to you.  
TG: dirk seriously what the hell are you doing  
TT: Would you be happy if you could be her little love muffin on the proviso that the two of you never do it?  
TG: dirk seriously this isn’t funny  
TT: I’m not joking  
TT: Do you think you could have a relationship if sex was off the table?  
TG: dirk seriously fuck off with this  
TT: A simple question, yes or no, answer and I’ll fuck off all the way to the moon  
TG: why do you even want to know? she said it’s not going to happen  
TT: That’s not an answer  
TG: im not going to answer your shitty fucking question dirk  
TT: It’s not a shitty question, I’m not teasing you, I am asking in all seriousness here what would you do if Jane asked you out with that condition right here right now  
TG: i’d say yes  
TG: and i’d take her hand  
TG: and i’d tell her that i don’t give a shit if we never have sex  
TG: because i don’t care about anything other than being her girlfriend and making her feel special every goddamn day  
TG: and whatever it takes i would do it for jane because she’s worth anything  
TG: are you fucking happy now?  
TT: Very.  
TT: Be right back.  
TG: fuck you

TT: Yep, I’m totally an asshole, by the way read this chat log  
GG: Dirk you didn’t  
GG: Oh god you did  
GG: She really said this?  
TT: I think it’s time you asked her yourself

TG: hey so dirk was acting really weird just a second ago and I think he mighta implied janey likes me back?  
TG: kinda freaking out here  
GT: Oh dear im sorry roxy  
GT: I tried to convince him to let you and jane sort this out between yourselves but you know how he likes to meddle  
GT: Still perhaps there are opportunities now that the cats out of the bag

TT: Time to woman up and let Roxy ask you out, I’m sure she’ll be messaging you any second.

GT: What are you going to say to her?

TT: What are you going to say to her?

GG: Roxy, we should talk.

\-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] is now an idle chum! --

 

* * *

 

“Bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh,” you moan into Meenah’s stomach, tears still stinging at your eyes.

“Okay, I’m-a pretend you’re trying to do a whale song to cheer me up but your whale song sucks so I’m-a also kick your ass for it.” She gives you the most delicate bop to the head before she goes back to stroking your hair.

“It’s just not fair,” you mutter through the fabric of her shirt. “Like two months ago this would have been it, game over, happily ever after, roll credits. We could go cash in for our home in the suburbs and get started having a bazillion babies.” You pluck absent mindedly a bit of fluff on Meenah’s shorts. “But now what do I say? ‘Jane ur right kissin you would be super cathartic and make up for all my mistakes + feelin bad about myself, overcoming personal problems rules!’”

“I don’t know, Rox, I’m hardly the bastion of experience here.” Meenah sighs and curls her fingers through your hair, it feels so nice to be touched.

“Was that a fish pun just now? Bass-tion?” There’s a chuckle from above and she nudges your head playfully. You press a loud smooch into her stomach so she knows that you’re adorable even though you’re sniffly from crying.

“How about just dump your expectations? Like you were messed up the first time because you thought it was going to be your perfect happy little family right away and it wasn’t. Maybe if you just go into it as your own person, with all of your emotional junk, and her as her own person then together you’ll find out whether you do or don’t want to make a thing of it.”

You hum softly into the warmth of her body and tighten your arms around her waist. One of her hands drops out of your hair to reach around your shoulder and hold you tight. “Damn Meens, that be hella wise. You sure you’re not some kinda mystical guide sent to lead me on my quest to epic adventure?”

“I dunno, how much do mystical guides get paid?” She moves her other hand round to your earlobe and gives you a quick tweak. You gasp a bit under her touch, already regretting letting her find out your weakness.

“Not a lot, I’m pretty sure they actually have to pay the adventurer most of the time.” Another tweak, a short squeal escapes you and you let out a giggle. Her arm around you starts to feel less like a hug and more like she’s keeping you where she can get to you.

“Oh? And what do I have to pay you to sort this mess out?” She bucks underneath you as you get your hands free at set them to tickling her sides.

“Nothing you weren’t gonna give me for free” You tickle up further until your fingers are wiggling in her armpits. You love the feeling of her squirming under you, it does something in your chest that you’ve never felt anywhere else.

“Fuck you,” she says with a laugh. “Just for that I’m-a charge _interest_.” She curls around you and gets her mouth on your ear and suddenly you’re not doing fine motor control so well. Her teeth nibble at you between tongue swipes and you’re putty in her hands, laughing and gasping and maybe some other sounds you usually only make on your own.

The play fighting goes on for a bit, and god knows you want it to go further, but it’s Meenah who stops you, dumping you on your back and pinning you down. Her expression drops a bit and she sits back. “I like ya, Rox, be tempting to have you all to myshellf,” she is such a _nerd_.  
“But you should work out your stuff with Jane. I ain’t getting in the way of your true love schtick with her. You want me after you’re done then you know where to find me.”

You surprise her by breaking out from under her, taking her face in your hands and pressing your lips to hers. “I gotta fix things with Janey, yeah. But we’re gonna stay pals no matter what, okay?” She doesn’t really reply so much as give herself back to you and to the kiss, tongue coming out to press into your open mouth and meet yours. The two of you got _reely_ good at kissing pretty quickly, but you’ve also been getting in a lot of practice. You cuddle in close to her, acutely aware that this might be your last such practice session if things go a particular way with Jane. You’re not really used to having to choose between two things you want, Jane’s warmth versus Meenah’s heat, and a small shameful part of yourself feels guilty for wanting both. Meenah’s right, fixing things with Jane is going to take priority, but if you’re very, very lucky, then maybe being a little greedy won’t be such a bad thing.

 

* * *

 

“Kanayaaaaaaaa,” your loving wife of many years and, despite all present appearances, a fully grown woman moans at you from the couch. “I’m bored, entertain me.”

“Shall I dance? Perform tricks? I do know an excellent one involving a chainsaw and a disappearing spouse.” You don’t get up from the dining table to deliver your sarcasm, still scribbling away at a design you were hoping to have finished a week ago. In front of you the half empty bottle of butterscotch schnapps stands defiant on the table, the entirety of Roxy’s stash, liberated from an empty shoebox in her closet. You’re sincerely upset with yourself for violating her privacy like that but your need to meddle had gotten the best of you. You’ll probably just throw it out later, though you were considering trying to find which neighbour it had been stolen from and paying them an apologetic visit. Rose had insisted, with her usual unnecessary drama, that you should instead have the bottle framed somehow and displayed prominently for years to come. You’d politely declined, on the grounds that you’d only just managed to scrub the passive aggression off the walls after the last time Rose had decided an accomplishment of Roxy’s merited open display.

You hear Rose turn over on the couch behind you. “She really shouldn’t still be staying with Vriska, it’s been simply too long.”

“It’s been four days, Rose.” You hand slips and the lovely blouse you’d been scribbling wins a rakish new line of piping for it. You sigh and pick up your eraser.

“Exactly, entirely too long.” Rose sounds awfully pleased to have you agree with her, regardless of what your intent had been. You rub a little more intensely at the paper in an attempt to unstitch the poor craftsmanship from your creation. “Really, we should just head on over, put the whole thing behind us and bring her home. We could get out my mother’s old liquor cabinet and fill it up as a homecoming present to show there’s no hard feelings.” You rub a little more firmly than you intend. “We can put a lock on it, so that she can keep those lockpicking skills sharp, we do want to foster her talents after all.” The paper is more metaphor than drawing as your grip on the eraser tenses and you scrub harder. “And I suppose we could ease up on the ‘endless lectures on consent’ since we’ve ‘obviously failed to teach her anything’. I’ll just make a show of not asking before we kiss in front of her, that will definitely make her—”

The page tears under your hands and Rose finally shuts up.

You turn around your heel, lifting up from your seat as you go and advance towards her reclining form. Her knees curl up defensively and her expression suddenly betrays worry “I’m sorry, really, I’m just so—”

You silence her with your mouth. More than two and a half decades together and you’ve still not found a better method for quieting Rose’s anxiety than kissing her. She stays tense for a few seconds before eventually relaxing into you. Her eyes are half lidded and her breath unsteady when you let her go. Good.

“If you do not start to behave yourself I will have Vriska give her the keys to the flat a year early and then the only time either of us will see hide or hair of her will be when she needs her laundry done.” You motion for her to sit up and slide in behind, arms wrapping around her waist.

“I thought we agreed she and Vriska wouldn’t be swapping rooms until after her first year of college?” Rose mutters, picking up your hands and placing them on her stomach.

“Evidently she will be needing her own space sooner than we’d hoped.” You press a kiss into the top of her head and trace your palms over her middle. Your mind passes back to years ago, holding a very pregnant Rose in this same position, running your hands over her swollen belly to feel your daughter kick inside her. Everything had seemed simultaneously so simple and so terrifying back then. You know Rose is thinking of it too. You kiss her again and let your hands slip under her shirt.

“I don’t want her to go.” Her voice is hushed with the admission, her hands resting on top of yours. You dip down to kiss her neck appreciatively, for the honesty is hard to come by.

“We can’t stop her from going, but if we’re very, very supportive of her then perhaps going won’t mean leaving.” A tune comes unbidden to your mind, the first lullaby you sang for Roxy, when she was still in the womb.

“Am I a bad mother?” Her fingers grip tightly at yours.

“You’re not perfect, Rose, but you’re not a bad mother. You weren’t even a bad daughter, as much as you might beat yourself up about it. Roxy loves you just as much as you love her, but given the two of you haven’t had an honest conversation since she hit puberty I can see why both of you fail to realise it.” You sigh with the exasperation of more than four years of arguments and insufferable gifts and the endless petty sniping of your two dearest ones. “You do have so very much in common after all.” You add with perhaps a touch of bitterness.

“I’ve said before Kanaya, I don’t want her to know just yet. When she’s older—”

“Rose, she’s old enough to have a drinking problem herself, she’s old enough to know about yours. I never understood how you could delight in explaining the birds and the bees to an eight year old and then declare the topic of alcohol completely outside her field of comprehension. For gods sakes, with her chemistry grades she could probably learn more about drinking using a microscope than talking to you.” Frustration overwhelms comfort and you rise to your feet, leaving a deflated Rose to flop back on the couch where you’d been holding her up. “If you really want a better relationship with her than you had with your mother perhaps try having an actual conversation for once.”

In your haste to make a dramatic exit you don’t think to take anything with you. You can always come back for the forgotten liquor later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck formatting pesterlogs forever


	8. Intermission 4

AG: She’s doing okay, 8y the way  
TG: New phone who dis?  
AG: Oh my gooooooood Rose.  
TT: Nobody appreciates my sense of humour.  
AG: We would all appreci8 it if you stopped thinking you were funny  
TT: I’ll have you know I am a wildly celebrated comedy writer.  
AG: That’s strange, considering everything you write ends up in the horror section!  
TT: Yes but I laugh while writing it, so that makes it a comedy.  
AG: This miiiiiiiight 8e one of those situations where death of the author applies  
TT: Well as long as it’s a humorous death I’ll be satisfied.  
AG: Anyway, the reason I’m 8othering to check up with you is I think it’s time you told her a8out your own stuff  
TT: I have no idea what stuff you’re referring to.  
AG: Neither does she, that’s why I’m asking. Do you really think it’s 8etter to pretend you’ve never fucked up a day in your life while Roxy is going through all this?  
AG: It’d pro8a8ly help if she knew you weren’t little miss perfect at her age.  
TT: She knows I’m not perfwct, Virska, there’ s no reason we shuld bring this up with her now.  
AG: Rose?  
AG: Rose, what’s up with your spelling  
AG: Answer me, Rose  
AG: Shit  
AG: Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck  
AG: I’m calling Kanaya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know it's good foreshadowing when all your readers commented on it.
> 
> Thinking the next chapter's going to be the last "chapter" chapter, followed by an intermission. Let me know in the comments which plotline you're most looking forward to the resolution of!
> 
> Rose&Roxy  
> Jane/Roxy  
> Vriska/Vriska's Guilt  
> Meenah/A ham sandwich


	9. Chapter 5: Part 1

Rose tastes like butterscotch and vomit, but you kiss her all the same.

“Please, Rose, for the love of Jegus tell me the puking was not self-induced.” Her eyes look ten years older, ravaged around the sides where her makeup hasn’t survived her tears. Her hair is mussed up like a dog attacked it, though it was probably just Kanaya holding back her bangs as she emptied her guts.

“I’ll have you know the last few years of sobriety have sent my legendary tolerance straight to shit. I could hardly keep any of it down.” She swallows and her mouth has to taste foul but if it’s affecting her then she doesn’t show it. “You didn’t tell Roxy, did you?”

Of course. Of fucking course this isn’t the wake up call she needs. Of course she doesn’t realise that for all her lauded love of psychology her junior therapist of a daughter would be the best person to talk to right now. Of course she finds a way to make this whole thing about Her Big Secret.

“No, Rose, I didn’t. Sent her a text as I was leaving saying I needed her to stay over at Fef’s place for the night winky face winky face. She sent me some very creative emoticons back that I’m still working on deciphering.”

Rose settles back down into the couch at that, adjusting the damp cloth on her forehead and closing her eyes as she goes. “Good, good that’s… that’s great. Thank you, Vriska.”

“But given this is obviously a Roxy-related fuck up,” Kanaya enters the room carrying three tall glasses of lemonade because she is a jewel and neither of you deserve her. “We need a plan as to how we can stop this happening again without involving her.”

Rose doesn’t contribute, just wordlessly takes her glass and starts sipping. Not even thoughtful sips, just straight up drinks the lemonade like not a thing in the world is wrong with the current situation. Okay maybe you’re projecting on her drinking habits a bit much. Eventually she pauses her sipping long enough to ask you the question on her mind. “Do you think she’s ready to come home yet?”  
“Home? Maybe. Here? No. Rose, if I bring her back over here now, what’s waiting for her? Awkward silences? Passive aggressive affection? A mom who smells like barf? We’ve got to sort out your shit before we involve her, otherwise we’re just asking her to put up with a lot of the silence that got us in this mess in the first place. You know that’s the source of all this, right?” You turn to ask Kanaya as well. “Right?” She doesn’t seem to know either. “Roxy fucks up with her friend and her first instinct is not to wait around long enough to apologise, she just bugs out. The three of us are as responsible as anyone for that shit right there. We all just snipe at each other when we’ve got beef because we’re so used to each other that talking about our feelings at this point feels a little redundant.”

Rose goes to interrupt but Kanaya presses a finger to her lips pre-emptively, as if that wasn’t the whole fucking problem. “She’s right, Rose. I know it feels like we’re making you out to be the villain here but this is just as much my fault. We’ve raised an excellent snarkmaster but I think it’s time we remembered she’s our still our little girl in a lot of ways.”

“Is it wrong that I wish she wasn’t? I don’t know how to relate to her as a daughter any more than I knew how to relate to my mother. The times when I can forget I’m supposed to be raising her are the only times I feel like we’re truly comfortable. Like we’re just close friends.” Rose isn’t really looking at either of you anymore, staring off into the distance with half lidded eyes instead. “If we’d met in college we might have even been drinking buddies.”

“Well tough shit.” Kanaya surprises you both and maybe looks a little surprised with herself. “We agreed, Rose, we agreed going into this that we were going to put Roxy first. Over us. Over our relationship. Over everything we were going to do right by our girl. And we’ve been selfish. We’ve let ourselves get comfortable because she was always so quick and so clever and seemed to have her head screwed on right. But we have made a drastic overestimation of our daughter’s emotional maturity and it is up to us now, as her parents, to make sure she has our love and our support and the best we are capable of giving. And that means talking to her.”

Rose is quiet for a bit, swallowing down meaningless comebacks, digesting what Kanaya said. Eventually, she finds her voice. “What should we do?”

“I have no idea.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey Meenah, Vriska says I gotta crash here tonight, is that cool with you? Also crash is a thing that waves do and therefore an ocean pun so you owe me a smooch.”

“I totally do not,” Meenah says, giving you your well deserved kiss on the cheek anyway. “Why can’t you head back to hers? Not that I don’t want you here or anything, it’s just Fef gets kind of crazy up in my business whenever I have someone over and I don’t feel like getting another birds-and-the-bees-but-with-marine-shit lecture. You do _not_ want to know how anglerfish get their freak on.”

“She says my mom’s sick or something so she’s going to check up on her, laugh at her suffering, take selfies, you know, standard stuff.” This used to happen a lot after your moms started dating Vriska, Vriska would stay home to take care of Lalonde-mom while you and Maryam-mom would get to have a fun day out doing something.

“What, is that like your code for ‘mom fell off the wagon again’?” Meenah looks smug as… wait, what?

“What do you mean off the wagon?” No way.

“The way she complains you’d think she was having to scoop your mom off the floor of bars all the time. Fef says it’s something called ‘co-dependency’? Which I don’t know, it sounds like—”

“Wait, back the fuck up, Meens. My mom doesn’t drink. Nobody in my house drinks, there’s no alcohol in my house.” There is no fucking way.

“Well, yeah. Fef says your mom used to be a hardcore lush back in college, so it makes sense she wouldn’t want the stuff in the house if she’s trying to stay off. Listen, like no offence or anything, it sounds like Fef and Vriska just talk shit about the old times a lot, I’m sure your mom’s fine n—”

“Meenah, I am super sorry but I need to go home right the hell now can I borrow five bucks for the bus fare.”

 

* * *

 

 

GT: Dont you feel just a tad left out though?  
TT: Not really  
TT: I mean, this is about them, right?  
TT: It would be pretty fucked up for us to be involved as, what, eye candy?  
TT: Two super hot dudes flexing in the background while the ladies sort out their romance drama  
GT: I just think itd be a jolly idea to get a bigger piece of the action  
TT: Dude  
TT: How many times have we made everything about us and have them just awkwardly hang out in the back  
TT: How is that fair to anyone watching on  
TT: They see the hot ladies hanging around and think it’s about to be ladytown funplace for everyone  
TT: But then nope. Dudes as far as the eye can see  
TT: Still flexing  
TT: Maybe, like, a majestic horse or something.  
TT: I’m just saying, it’s shitty to lead people on like that  
GT: So you think no?  
TT: Yes  
GT: Wait, yes you think no or yes you think we should?  
TT: Yes I think that no, we should not tag this fic with dirk/jake just to fuck with all the people who constantly do that for jane/roxy in fics about us  
GT: But breaking the fourth wall is perfectly fine?  
TT: Totally, I mean, this fic is pretty out of character in general, and it’s not out of keeping with the source material for the characters to be this level of self aware  
GT: And at the dramatic apex?  
TT: No better time for it  
TT: What the fuck even is my typing quirk anyway

 

* * *

 

 

You’re seated on the floor with your back against the couch and Rose’s hand tangled in your hair. This parenting stuff is tougher than you thought. You don’t know if you could have done as well as these two have pulled off just by winging it for almost eighteen years. You feel you’d be the kind of parent who dangles their baby off a balcony or something.

“Have you thought of anything yet?” Rose asks because it’s been precisely thirty seconds since she last did.

“No, fuck you, ask Kanaya.” Your brain hurts from how empty of ideas it is.

“I can’t, she’s giving me the look.” Rose puts on her ‘I’m being a little shit because you all love me’ voice.

“ _What look_.” Kanaya responds in her ‘my love has limits’ voice.

“You know what look, you heartless shrew who wouldn’t even give me her last name.” Rose replies in the voice that says ‘my capacity for good-natured antagonism is limitless’.

“Do you see what I have to put up with, Vriska?” Kanaya turns to you with the voice of ‘you signed on for this bullshit too’.

“Is it me? Am I what you have to put up with?” Roxy slams the door behind her, dramatic punctuation at its finest. The kid belongs in a soap opera.

Everyone bolts upright in place to face her, Rose’s eyes going wider than teacup saucers as she realises just how busted she is. You all are, in a way. Roxy looks pissed in the way only heartbreak can make a person look. You might have looked something like that the night you killed Aradia. Kanaya might have looked like that the first day after when she found you in the hospital, though damned if you could remember for all the pain meds you were on. Rose you know for sure looked exactly like that the day she buried her mom, all of seventeen years old and angry as hell that the world had denied her any chance of a reconciliation. Well here you go, Rose, courtesy of the universe, mother/daughter redemption round two. Fight.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mom,” you say, and your lip doesn’t even tremble a little bit when you say it. “We need to talk.”

Vriska grabs your other mom and the two haul ass out of the room, leaving you alone to hash things out, once and for all. Your mom slides her legs off the couch and pulls herself up to sitting. You stay standing, back to the door, ready to stop her if she tries to run away and half ready to run away yourself. She looks uncomfortable, which is good, because so are you.

“Do you have anything you want to say before we get started?” Your hands are clenched into tight fists, you’re trying not to shake.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” She’s unreadable, as always. You can’t tell if she’s still trying to make this into some kind of joke.

“Anything else?” Your nails are jabbing painfully into your palms but you can’t relax, not until this is done.

“I miss you. Please come home.” That sounded genuine, but you don’t want to trust it.

“Is that it?” Your voice is strained, threatening to jump up into falsetto if this keeps up any longer.

Your mom looks at you, right in the eyes, before dropping her gaze. All of a sudden her shoes must get real interesting because she doesn’t look back up when she speaks. “Is there any point in saying it out loud?”

“Maybe,” your voice is a string orchestra, all high held notes ready to snap at any second. “Maybe I’d like to hear it from you. Maybe that’d help understand why.” A tremor. “Why you didn’t tell me.”

“I… I didn’t want you to think poorly of me.”

“So what, you would always have the moral high ground?”

“That’s not i—”

“So that you could always look down at me struggling along, trying to make sense of things and pretend you were better?”

“Roxy, I—”

“So that for every problem with myself I fixed you could make me feel bad for having problems to start with?”

“I was _scared!_ ” The strings inside you break and suddenly you don’t want to be angry anymore. “I was scared that if you knew the truth then you’d _hate_ me. Like I hated my mother. Until it was too late to fix things.”

“Grandma?”

“She died before you were born. When I was your age, in fact.”

A part of you wants to ignore that, pretend it wasn’t a factor, pretend she couldn’t be as human as you. A better part of you knows the truth. “Do you want to talk about her?”

“ _No._ ” Your mom is exasperated and, at a guess, probably still dealing with a shitty headache. She plays absentmindedly with her fingers, rotating a ring that isn’t there.

“Well, that’s too fucking bad isn’t it because it’s family sharing time and we’re all outta popcorn so stories about grandma is all we’ve got.”

She looks up in your eyes then, and for a second you think you see anger on her face before her features smooth out. “Fine, that’s… that’s not unreasonable.” She takes a breath.

“I wasted my youth hating her. Or acting like it, anyway. She always seemed such a degenerate, to my young mind, spending all her free time plastered yet never leaving the house. I never really thought about what she must have been going through, raising me on her own, trying to keep up a career at the same time. I don’t even remember if she had any friends. There certainly weren’t any at her funeral. I just remember questioning every moment of affection. Was this really what maternal love looked like, or was it just the drink talking? Or was this one of her rare lucid moments, trying to overcompensate for her absenteeism with unwanted affection?

“I never understood her, and then one day I got a notice in school that I never would. She’d gotten into a car accident, I was very suddenly an orphan with access to a house full of alcohol and a never ending supply of regret. I started drinking to feel closer to her at first, and then things got out of hand. When Vriska got into her accident, it just threw things even further into excess. I was so out of it at her trial that I applauded the guilty verdict, somehow certain that Vriska was off the hook and we were all going to live happily ever after. I threw up behind a tombstone at Aradia’s funeral, partly from the drink and partly from self-revulsion that I couldn’t even get through one social function sober anymore.”

She meets your eyes then, done telling her shoes the tragic backstory she refused to tell her daughter. You think her lip quivers a bit, but you can’t be sure from this side of the room. It’s as good an excuse as any to move in closer and take a seat in the armchair opposite her.

“I started to get better after then. It was always rocky, always uncertain. I’d fall off the wagon for months at a time, convinced that I would just have to find a way to be one of these new fangled functional alcoholics everyone kept talking about. I’m glad I had Vriska and your mother around to slap me out of it whenever I went too far off the deep end. I worked hard to make sure you never noticed, I didn’t want you involved in any of my failures, any of my… weakness. Having you, having a daughter who could be better than I was, that was what made the bad times worth it. You were my greatest achievement, Roxy. Everything I’ve done, I did to try and be the parent you deserved. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about this sooner.”

You let the apology hang in the air for a few seconds, trying to think of a response that appropriately conveys the maelstrom of teen angst and emotion within you. “Fuck you,” you tell your mother.

“What?”

“I said fuck you. Where do you get off acting the martyr now, as if you’ve been nobly suffering this whole time, keeping me in the dark?” You stand up out of the arm chair, too restless to get comfortable. Your mom stands up with you, though she hovers on her feet, unable to decide on a direction, not sure if she’s about to advance or abscond. “Everyone always asks me what it’s like to live with a famous author and I can tell them with a straight face that _I don’t know_. It feels like we don’t even live in the same world sometimes, let alone the same house.”

You want to tear out your hair as she shifts her hands nervously, looks desperately to the side, avoiding your gaze. She wants to be anywhere other than here, having this conversation with you. “I didn’t want you to know how bad it was and I didn’t think I could hide it from you if you knew I had a problem. You were always my motivation for doing better, for being better. That’s wh—”

“You can stop repeating it, I get it. I’m your special little flower. You porcelain trophy of parenthood. Your perfect daughter. Why the fuck couldn’t I just be your kid? Why did you need to put me on the mantlepiece when we could have been getting along. Why were you so happy to call yourself a mother when you never acted like you wanted to be my mom.”

You go to shove her and that finally gets her attention back on you. She grabs your wrists before you can push her back down onto the chair. You’ve got height and weight on her, but she twists your arms just right as you try to push her down and your elbows fold, sending you falling into her arms instead. The two of you wrestle for a moment as she grips you in a fierce hug against her, unable to wriggle free, unable to push her down.

“I love you, Roxy. I love you so much. I’m sorry I let my vanity put distance between us, I’m sorry I couldn’t be as good a mom as you deserved.” You stop struggling in her arms and tears start to escape your eyes. Hot tears fall on the back of your neck tell you that your mom’s doing no better. “I love you and I want to _fix this_ , Roxy. I want to fix us. So can we please talk?”  
You take a deep breath before answering, not wanting your voice to crack. “What do you want to say?”

“I want to tell you that I have a drinking problem,” your mom’s voice cracks when she answers. “And that I would very much like my daughter’s help in coping with it.”

Tension starts to drip out of you as the implications of that statement, the responsibility and trust of it starts to get through to you. “Okay,” you tell her.

You give her that hug she was waiting for.

 

* * *

 

 

The two of them stay curled up on the couch for hours, whispering back and forwards, laughing at some points, crying at others. Rose holds Roxy in her arms and maybe for the first time ever she looks to you like a mother’s supposed to. Not a schoolmistress, not a snarky older friend, a mother.

You and Kanaya stay out of sight, hiding in the kitchen except to bring out a tray of tea and biscuits for the Lalondes. She presses kisses into your cheeks and your neck and whispers in your ear that you’re a miracle worker. You don’t mind taking the credit, for now. Wrapped up in Kanaya’s arms you can feel the stress of the last week melting away, a fraction of what it must feel like for Rose and Roxy, but palpable enough to notice.

It’s late at night before you leave your hiding spot to check on them, finding them both long asleep, still curled up together. You know from experience Rose is not an easy sleeper, but something in her face tells you she’ll rest the whole night through for a change, provided you don’t wake her. Kanaya drapes a blanket over her resting wife and daughter, then takes your hand and leads you away to the bedroom. You don’t need to watch over them any longer tonight. They’re going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter is being published in three parts! There's a little more work left to be done on part two but part three is pretty much good to go, since it was one of the scenes I've wanted to write since the very beginning. I'll try to have all three parts and the epilogue out before 4/13.
> 
> Since there's not much left to go, tell me in the comments what's been your favourite part of the fic so far! If you can't pick a favourite moment, make up a moment that didn't happen. My favourite moment was when Meenah and Roxy stole Feferi's prize cuttlefish to win a bar bet.


	10. Chapter 5: Part 2

When you come down in the morning Rose and Roxy don’t appear to have moved from the couch, yet somehow they’ve materialised an array of spreads and toast which they’re currently digging into. They’re still talking animatedly about nothing in particular as far as you can tell, just enjoying the company of a like-minded individual. Kanaya surprises you from behind with a hand on your shoulder, the firm grip a reminder that you’re going to be getting the credit for making this happen for the next month. You’re pretty sure you’re barely even related to what’s going on here, this is just Roxy showing you all what she can do if someone’s there to clean her up and make her feel safe enough to be the amazing person she always is. You just made sure you were standing in her corner with a towel and she did the rest.

You both descend into the living room and Kanaya rushes over to shower her loved ones with hugs and kisses, despite protests from both. You hang back, unsure if there’s an unspoken line between “family” moments and “vriska-also moments”. Kanaya assuages your concern with a quick gesture, beckoning you over to the couch. You don’t quite join in on the hug fest but you get involved, ruffling the kid’s hair and pinching Rose’s cheek.

Kanaya ends up tickling Roxy and you steal yourself some toast, somehow you all end up squeezed together and sprawled out on that one couch, a tangle of arms and warmth and good vibes. Every time you look over at Rose you see her failing to suppress a smile that keeps bursting back onto her face, she even has to rub her cheeks where they’re sore from trying on an expression other than her usual sardonic grin.

After you’ve all had breakfast, Roxy turns to Rose and starts talking animatedly, in this close little whisper language they seem to have invented just for themselves in the last night. You check with Kanaya to see if this is a thing you should be worried about, but she just gives you a helpless little shrug. Eventually, done with their deliberations, Roxy turns to you and asks if you’re busy later today, because she needs a lift.

And because you like the kid you only turn her down seven times before relenting.

 

* * *

 

“Jane!” You shout at the closed window. You hurl another tiny rock to bounce off the glass. “Jane Crocker! If I have to sing show tunes off key until you come out here I will!” You hear the dull thud of flesh on flesh as Vriska facepalms behind you. You are the _best_ at romance. “Jane Crocker you have until the count of ten to stop me from letting your neighbours know how much I love Wicked!”

The shutters open to reveal a very sleepy looking Jane, still in her pyjamas, squinting down at you from her second storey window. “Are you sure you couldn’t just stay calm for once? Instead of flying off the handle?”

“Ha ha miss funny pants, I hope you think you’re clever. Are you coming down or am I going to have to try defying gravity?”

“Be down in five. Don’t start the duet without me.”

She comes outside to greet you still in her pyjamas, and you have to wonder if this isn’t the exact same outfit she was in the last time you saw her. Back when all this started.

“So hey, I’m sorry for disappearing yesterday when we were talking,” you start by dodging around the actual issue, not yet ready to bring it up, not until you’ve made sure the two of you are cool with each other after the last few weeks. “Things got awkward and I couldn’t deal, but I should have just said that and… look, communication hasn’t exactly been my forte lately. I was bottling up a lot of stuff before and then things got confusing with you and I just sort of shut down and I’m really sorry but—”

“Roxy, it’s okay,” Jane reminds you why you love her. Even though you’re probably directly responsible for her having a lackluster summer she still gives you that look like she comes from a world where it’s impossible for everything to be anything other than okay. “It’s not like I’m completely blameless for the communication breakdown here.”

“Well yeah, the whole not-talking thing was definitely a team effort, but I was the one sitting on the whole secret crush on her best friend thing.”

“That’s…” she hesitates and you check off a mark on your invisible hypothesis clipboard. “That’s not entirely true.”

“So Dirk wasn’t full of shit.” You grin. “Good to know for the future.”

You take a deep breath and continue. “I guess I really just want to try to be the kind of person who talks things out more. I was worried about our friendship changing, so I didn’t tell you I liked you, I was worried I’d overstepped your boundaries so I didn’t stick around to find out if you were okay. I went on a fucking teen rampage of misbehaviour and acting out because I didn’t think I could talk to my moms about this stuff. Nobody in my family actually _talks_ , despite the fact that we never shut up and Have To Articulate Every Concept As Precisely As Possible To Prevent Any Misconstruing Of The Accord That We Will Be Having Pasta For Dinner.”

She laughs, and it’s cute, because she’s cute and she’s doing a cute thing. Your chest feels tight to look at her smile, your breath is short waiting on her reply. “It’s fine, really, if you don’t want to talk about things then that’s okay with me.”

“Well it’s not okay with me, because I want to be better. So, in the interest of open communication, there’s a thing I want to ask you, a thing I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, is it okay if I ask you now?”

“You can ask me anything you want, Roxy.”

“Jane, can I kiss you?”

She stands there, candid aphrodite in her pyjamas and you know looking at her that she’s always going to be your one weakness. She takes a graceful step towards you and you awkward shuffle the rest of the way in, certain her answer won’t be no, but not yet certain it’s going to be yes. Her hands settle on your shoulders and your heart just about stops. She’s digging her teeth into her lip and thinking it over, thinking _you_ over.

You tilt your head, inviting, part your lips, begging, close your eyes, hoping.

Her hand settles on your shoulder and you whimper, not ready to look at her again, not ready to find out what her answer is from the expression on her face. A second hand curls around your waist, warm, so warm, and you feel her shuffle a little closer to you. You blindly bring your hands up to her hips to brace yourself against her. Her breath creeps across your cheek, and you’re so close you imagine you can taste her. The breath you feel is coming in small gasps, you hear anticipation that you can’t see because you still don’t dare open your eyes. Her heart is thundering across from you or maybe yours is simply beating loud enough in your ears that it might as well be beating for two.

“Roxy,” she whispers up against you, little puffs tickling your skin as she exhales your name. “Of course you can kiss me.”

You can’t say who kissed who first.

You can say that you’re kissing Jane Crocker right now.

She’s shy, but forces herself forward, determined as ever to get what she wants. It occurs to you that right now you are what she wants. Your legs go weak and then she’s holding you up, you snake your arms around her neck to cling on and let her carry your weight for a bit. She doesn’t taste like anything in particular, where your mind had filled in bubblegum or cupcakes or cotton candy she just tastes like warm and person and good. She hums, or maybe laughs against your lips and you start laughing back, giddy with happiness, fucking elated that after what feels like forever in the dark and gloomy mood of your obnoxious young romance funk, you have now scored one babetastic girlfriend of your dreams.

 

* * *

 

Once it looks like stuff here is going to be okay, you leave Roxy and her friend to catch up and sort their shit out. You figure, after this week, she’s probably going to do alright on her own. Like you care anyway (you do care). You’ve got your own errands to run.


	11. Chapter 5: Part 3

It’s windy as shit when you get there, and the walk up hasn’t gotten any easier, but it’s worth it for the view at the top. Best lookout in the whole town, by your reckoning.

“Hey,” you say, sitting down with a grunt. You really aren’t getting any younger, going by the creak in your knees or that ache in your back that never seems to go away completely. You’re pretty happy with that, honestly. You like feeling older sometimes, a reminder that you’re not the angry kid who makes mistakes anymore. “Sorry I missed our usual time a couple of days back, you would not believe the week I’ve had.”

“So you know Rose and Kanaya’s kid, Roxy? The one I told you about. Anyway, she did some dumb shit and she’s been staying with me for a bit while she sorted stuff out. I know, right? Vriska Serket, youth counsellor. It’s fucked up but true. I can’t say I was as good at it as I wanted to be, but I tried, you know? I really tried. Thought you’d be proud of me, maybe, helping out troubled kids, keeping em from my exact brand of fuck-ups. Her moms seem pretty happy at least.”

You pull some tufts of grass out of the ground and let the little green blades drift away. A breath of air catches them and they go twirling off down the hillside.

“Everything’s hard these days. When I was a kid it all seemed easy, because I wasn’t actually thinking anything through. When I was in prison I just did what people told me, so that felt easy too, even if it was a pain in the ass. Hell, even Rose and Kanaya make it fairly easy on me, they don’t mind suggesting stuff to do when I don’t want to make plans. This stuff though, taking care of a kid, even just for a couple of days, it was haaaaaaaard. Hard like trying to figure out one of those puzzles you used to love. I never told you how hard those were, did I? I had to get Terezi’s help every time, could never do those on my own. You’d probably be really good at this kid stuff.”

You lean back and let your head rest against the cool granite. Tears start welling up behind your eyepatch and in a fit of frustration you take it off. Who cares if anyone sees your freaky ruined eye socket right now.

“I miss you. Actually, fuck that, I don’t miss you. Fuck you, you weren’t that special. You were just a friend, or a rival or I don’t know, _something_. I just wish you weren’t dead.”

You read the name again.

ARADIA MEGIDO

TAKEN BEFORE HER TIME

“Anyway, sorry I didn’t bring you any flowers, next time, I swear. Got you something else, though.”

You set the VHS cassette down at the base of the tombstone.

“That was the first time Rose, Kanaya and I taught their little girl how to roleplay. You woulda liked her, she’s pretty good at it. Don’t worry about returning the tape, I have it on good authority they’re already finished mourning its loss.”

You get to your feet and dust off your jeans. You absolutely don’t need to wipe any tears off your face before putting your eyepatch back on because who’s crying? It was raining just now, obviously.

“Anyway, I’m going to head off. I’ll see you for gaming next week? Got a new scenario that’s going to blow that Indiana Jones self-insert of yours right out of the water. You’ll be here?”

Your dead friend’s tombstone doesn’t respond.

“Thought so. Arrivederci, Megido.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't seem like much, but I must have been waiting half this fic to post this one scene. I hemmed and hawed for weeks as to where in the resolution I should fit this bit in, but ultimately reader feedback prevailed and I decided to put it right at the end, hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> An epilogue is in the works, it is still my hope to get this posted before this whole Homestuck thing comes to an end on 4/13.
> 
> I don't have any questions left at this time, but I want to thank all of you so much for reading and liking and commenting, it's made the difference between this being one chapter long and it being the novella length pile of trash so many more people than I expected appear to have enjoyed. If you liked the fic and want to talk to me more about it, or about anything else, feel free to hit me up on my tumblr: heidibyeveryday.tumblr.com


	12. Intermission 5: Epilogue

You wake up in Vriska’s bed, then spend a second correcting yourself, you wake up in your own bed. You’ve lived here for a while now, but it always takes you a moment before you remember it’s your flat, your comfy bed, your cobalt blue dressing gown with the initials V.S. monogrammed into it. You are Roxy Lalonde and thanks to your mothers’ poly shenanigans you have your own super sweet pad in the middle of the city at age twenty. Wait, shit, twenty one. Today is your twenty first birthday. You roll over in bed and feel the warmth where an exceptionally beautiful body was keeping you company until very recently.

You put on your definitely-not-stolen dressing gown and head through to the living room, where you can hear exciting sounds coming from the kitchen. Sounds of cakes being made in preparation for your birthday. Cakes _plural_ , because along with Vriska’s apartment you have inherited aaaaaaaall the luck. All of it. Cakes made by your girlfri—

You enter the kitchen just in time to see Jane push Meenah back up against the fridge. Your blue-eyed babe nips at Meenah’s neck with those adorable front teeth and Meenah straight up moans under the assault. On the counter you can see cakes that are in the process of being decorated by your girlfriends. Girlfriends _plural_. All the luck.

“Hey, you ain’t supposed to be awake,” Meenah says when she finally notices you, though Jane still hasn’t stopped pinning her against the fridge. “Get the shell back to bed so we can bring you breakfast.”

“No can do, cuddlefish,” you take your rightful place behind Jane and join in on the fridge pileup. The fridge pile doesn’t stop from getting taller. “The birthday girl gets what she wants, and right now she wants kisses!” You collect your tithe from Jane first, then Meenah, short and sweet and spicy and just how you like both of them. You consider asking Jane whether you and Meenah have time to do your sinful, sinful business before breakfast is served when Vriska’s landline interrupts you. You sadly have to disengage from the first cuddlefest of the day to answer it, though you don’t miss Jane and Meenah making out the second you give them an opening to.

“Hey brat,” Vriska’s voice comes over the handset. “Happy birthday and junk, I guess. Kanaya’s kind of smooshing this phone into my face so I’m proooooooobably not going to be my most eloquent.”

“Thanks, mom,” you greet her back. “Are the other two behaving?”

“Ask them yourself,” there’s a sound of your old mobile being thrown and caught and a few expletives in three flavours of mom-voice.

“Hello, darling,” your birth mother seems to have been on the receiving end of that toss. “I believe celebrations are in order, twenty one years old is considered a big deal by some.”

“Not us Lalondes though,” you shush Jane with a handwave as she mouths something at you. “Just another day on the calendar.”

“And another day of being one of the two baddest bitches on the planet is, as always, cause for celebration,” a grin spreads over your face, you love when she’s in this mood. “Your mother picked us up some non-alcoholic wine to celebrate.”

“Any good?”

“Hell no. I wish they'd given me this stuff the first time I was in rehab, I would’ve been dry for good if wine tasted like this. Vriska pretends to like it to spite me. Speaking of, she’s pouring me another glass now, I’m going to tip it on her head. Talk to you later, love.”

You hear the phone fly across the room again and there’s a few large cracks as Maryam-mom juggles it. You hear her say something distantly, then swear, then there’s a little more shuffling. “Sorry, I somehow managed to catch the phone upside down. Your mother is smiling as if that were somehow her intent, despite it obviously being the case that she is simply a terrible throw.” That gets a laugh out of you. “Happy birthday, darling, did you wake up to any interesting presents from Jane and Meenah?”

“They’re making me a cake now, no, wait, it appears they are making out. This is the opposite of cake production you guys!” Meenah and Jane, who are decidedly not making out at present, flip you off in sync, then burst into giggles.

“Say hi for us!” Jane calls out, loudly enough for your mother to hear in case you decide to be a butt.

“Jane says hi, and also that she is totally up for a torrid affair whenever you both get tired of dating Lalondes.” That gets a blush out of Jane and you like to believe a blush out of your mom on the other end of the line.

“I will keep that under advisement,” your mom’s voice comes through as if she’s fighting a losing battle against her own barely contained laughter. “Are the three of you still planning on coming over for dinner tonight?”

“Yep, yep, I’ll see everyone there. I’m going to get back to corralling these two so we have a cake or two to bring over tonight instead of just lipstick stains.” Jane rolls her eyes at you, but Meenah gives thumbs up and a smile. You stick your tongue out at both.

“Alright then, we will see you then. Kisses.”

“You too, mwa.” You make a few more assorted kissy noises before hanging up. Jane rolls her eyes again as if this isn’t exactly what she signed up for. You make some kissy noises at her as well until she turns away to get the oven started. Meenah gets back to setting up some kind of breakfast extravaganza the two of them must have been setting up while you slept in.

“So Janey baked me some cakes, what birthday present am I getting from you?” You needle Meenah in the side as you slide in behind her. She’s warm as you curl your arms around her waist, even through your dressing gown.

“Tunabreath here decided the cakes could be our shared present. She decided this after I was halfway through mixing the batter.” Jane waggles her wooden spoon in front of Meenah’s face and Meenah takes a retaliatory lick of the spoon for good measure.

“You both suck, this ham sandwich is my real girlfriend, she understands me.” Meenah twists around in your arms, picking up a sandwich from her breakfast platter as she goes and obnoxiously munching it in your face.

“Hey Meenah can I have a bite of your girlfriend?” You quirk your eyebrows at her, because you’re cute like that.

“Yeah sure.”

You go to take a bite out of the sandwich before pausing midway towards Meenah, mouth still open and at the ready. You wiggle your eyebrows at her. She grins back with that full mouth of shark fangs. Jane realises far too late that your sandwich ruse was a distaction. She barely has time to squawk defensively and try to brandish her spoon before you and Meenah descend on her, kissing and nibbling and biting her all over her cheeks and ears and neck and mouth. She laughs in protest but doesn’t push you off so much as she tries to tickle you both, a war she is sadly unable to win with four hands versus two. The tides of battle turn against you, unfortunately, as an unthinkable betrayal from your right hand girl leaves you writhing with giggles as Meenah and Jane press you up against the kitchen sink with their hands all over you and never ending kisses peppering your face.

You don’t know how much time passes, but they’ve definitely stopped tickling you in favour of sloppy gross polyamorous lesbian kisses (the best kind) when your phone starts buzzing in your dressing gown pocket. It takes a while for you to disengage from the kisses, if only because you never want to stop being kissed by Jane and Meenah, but you eventually pull out your phone to see Vriska’s pestering you.

Three years ago you probably would have answered that right away. You needed Vriska and Vriska needed you. Today, you change your status and drop your phone back into your dressing gown pocket and return to your interrupted smoochfest with your beautiful, loving, happy girlfriends.

\-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] is now an idle chum! --

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the lot of it. Happy 4/13 everyone, I'm so glad I got to be a part of this ride with all of you.


End file.
